The Temporary Exception
by the-dark-knightess
Summary: Women weren't allowed on Radio Rock. That was a rule from the start. However, that was before Quentin met Chelsea and her radio-worthy voice. Now, she's the temporary exception to the rule, and craziness ensues. Especially when gorgeous Gavin arrives.
1. Chapter 1

**Note: I apologize in advance for the unoriginal parts. I'm trying to add in as much as I can think of. I'm sure this plot line is also very popular, but if I existed in this world, this is my dream life, so...what can I do? Thanks for reading.**

It all began when my friends started talking about some people that they called Simple Simon, The Count, Angus 'The Nut' Nutsford, and above all, Midnight Mark. I worked ten hour days at a café in Sheringham that rarely played any kind of music, so I had no idea what they were talking about. Then, on my 25th birthday, they introduced me to something that would dramatically change my life. Radio Rock.

From that night on, I was fully versed in the lingo of Rock n' Roll. I could sing every song Radio Rock played by heart, I knew the shifts of every DJ, I knew their names, I knew their voices. Then, one night in November, my friends and I were at a pub that was playing Radio Rock. The Count was broadcasting and he went into one of his signature opening monologues that I had learned well. I was a little drunk, so I jumped up on the table and started reciting it, loudly. The entire pub broke into applause when it was over. Grinning, I hopped down.

A few moments later, a man came over. He was very thin, and I figured I could knock him over if I sneezed in his direction. "Good evening," he said. "My name is Quentin."

"Good evening," we all replied.

He turned to me. "That was a very impressive speech. What's your name?"

"Chelsea Black."

"You have a fine voice. Have you ever considered broadcasting?"

"No," I answered, a little shocked.

He nodded as if he expected as much. "I have a proposal for you. You see, I am the founder of Radio Rock..." At this point, my friends all gasped and giggled. "...and I have been considering a temporary exception to the no women allowed rule. I want to see how a female DJ would be accepted. I am asking you to be that temporary exception. Now, before you answer, you need to remember, we are based on a ship in the middle of the North Sea, the only other woman aboard is a lesbian, and if you're not popular, you'll be promptly sent back to shore."

"I accept!" I said without a pause. All my friends started clapping and whispering to each other.

"Wonderful!" Quentin exclaimed. "How long do you need to pack?"

"Maybe an hour once I get home."

"How far do you live from here?"

"Just right down the street."

"Then, I shall escort you. I'd like to depart as soon as possible. These little excursions to shore are rather far and in between, but I love that boat. Come." He offered me his arm, so I took it gently for fear of pulling him over. I waved at my friends as we departed.

On the way to my house, I asked, "Why don't you allow women on board, Quentin?"

"They tend to complicate things. The guys compete over them and get distracted...things become problematic."

"Why am I different?"

"Like I said, I'm curious to see how it works. You seem like you're pretty sure of yourself and you're not going to let them do anything to you that you don't want them to."

"You got that right. Oh, crap. I just thought of something."

"What's that?"

"I have a job."

"Well, you'd best get rid of it."

"I'll write them a note and post it on their door when we leave. I assume we'll be headed for the harbor." He nodded. "Good. It's on the way. Here's my place."

I led him into my house, got him some tea, then ran to my room to start packing. I basically threw every article of clothing I had in the big suitcase, and packed a few of my other things in the smaller one like my clock, my tiny stash of records, my record player, and my second pair of tennis shoes. Within the hour, I was ready to go. "Alright, Quentin."

"Aren't you going to write your employer a note?"

"Oh, yeah!" I grabbed some paper out of a drawer and hastily scribbled a note.

"What are you going to tell them?"

"That a dreadful family emergency has called me immediately to London, and that I won't be coming back."

"Well done," he told me with a grin. I returned it and put the note in an envelope. We departed, and along the way, I stopped by the café and stuck the note on the door.

Once we reached the harbor, Quentin led the way to a boat. The captain greeted him, then looked at me a bit oddly. "Rules change?" he asked.

"She's a temporary exception."

"Whatever you say."

With that, we were aboard and en route to the ship dubbed Radio Rock. As the ship loomed on the horizon, Quentin came over to me. "Are you nervous, Chelsea?"

"A little. I've never broadcasted before."

"You'll be allowed to observe for a few days before we give you a spot. You'll do fine, I'm sure."

"Thanks. So, my shipmates will include: Dr. Dave, the Count, Simple Simon, Midnight Mark, Angus 'The Nut', John the newsman...who am I leaving out?"

"Thick Kevin, he cleans, Felicity, she cooks, Harold, he cleans and helps out with broadcasts, and Bob, he's a DJ. 3 am to 6 am."

"Oh. I've never heard him. I'm usually asleep during those hours."

"As are all normal people," he replied with a smirk. "You probably won't see Bob much. You might not ever see him."

"Oh...alright then." After that, he left me alone, and I turned back to the growing ball of light that we were going to. There lay my future. I couldn't dispel that thought. My future relied deeply upon that ship. I wasn't sure where it was going, but that ship was the hinge point.

Our little transport boat pulled up to the side of the ship smoothly. Quentin ascended to the deck, then turned and held out his hand for my luggage. I passed it all up there, then climbed aboard myself. I honestly hadn't expected it to be a cargo ship. I didn't know why I hadn't expected that. Of course it had to be large to accommodate so many people for so long. Radio Rock was painted in large white letters on the deck. I grinned. I was already having fun.

Quentin took me below deck to the living room/kitchen. It was full of people, all talking amongst themselves. "Excuse me! Quiet!" Quentin called, and the room fell silent. "This is Chelsea Black. She's going to be my experimental temporary exception to the no women rule. She has a great voice for broadcasting, and she proved it by climbing atop a table in a pub and reciting your opener right along with you, Count. Her American accent was pretty impressive as well." A rather rotund, bearded man at the bar raised a glass to me. I smiled and nodded. "No badgering the girl, and who she sleeps with aboard this ship is totally and exclusively up to her." I blushed, and the others laughed. "I expect you all to make her feel welcome." His announcement finished, he pat me on the shoulder and walked out, and I was left to weather through all the greetings.

The man who had raised his glass to me came over first. "Hi. I'm the Count."

I shook his hand. "It's a real honor, sir."

"The honor is all mine, fair lady."

I grinned and turned to the next guy. He had long dark hair and pretty blue eyes that just bubbled over with excitement. "Hi! I'm Simon!" he exclaimed in a pronounced Irish accent while shaking my hand hard enough to break it off.

"Simple Simon! I think you're the first DJ I heard about!"

"Well, that's nice."

"Yeah, It's bloody brilliant," another rotund man muttered. He had glasses and a little bit of an arrogant air about him. "I'm David."

I took his hand and nodded. "Dr. Dave. You came next. You see, my friends introduced me to your station, but first I heard about all of the DJs. Every one of you has a fan in my group."

"Really?" a voice called from the corner.

I knew the voice well. "Yes, Angus 'The Nut' Nutsford!" I called. "My friend Lola absolutely loves your show. Listens to it every single day."

A girl came up to me and said, "I think you just made his day. I'm Felicity."

"Ah. The lesbian. A pleasure, Felicity." I shook her hand and glanced at the clock. It was just after midnight. "I guess Mark is broadcasting," I said.

"That he is, and I am about to go do a newscast so forgive me if I say hello and run!" a man that I assumed was John called as he hastily exited the room.

"Hi, I'm Harold!" the black guy on the couch called while giving me a wave.

I waved back and turned to the final guy in the room. "I take it you're Kevin." He nodded. "Quentin called you Thick Kevin. How come?"

"No idea," he answered with a shrug.

"It's because he's incredibly thick!" Felicity answered.

"I see," I laughed. "Well, I'm very glad to have met you all. I'm looking forward to this stay."

"We're very glad to have you here," the Count said. "And if you ever need anything, if any of these crazy guys start bugging you...you come to me, ok? I'm taking it upon myself to make sure that you're looked after."

"You really don't have to do that."

"I know, but I'm going to. I'm your guardian, you hear?"

"Ok. Thank you." I looked around at all the smiling faces looking at me. Oh yeah, my future was here with these people. "So, where do I sleep?"


	2. Chapter 2

I actually observed the other DJs for about a month before they worked out a new schedule to make room for me to broadcast. I went on for two hours between Simon's morning show and Dave's afternoon show.

On my first day, the Count showed me into a studio. "You know how everything works, right?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good, girl. Knock 'em dead." I grinned and put on my headphones.

At the end of his shift, Simon, who had become my best friend, announced me. "Now, here for her broadcasting debut is a very fine girl by the name of Chelsea. She will be between me and Dr. Dave from now on, and I want my listeners to give her a chance. She's really a great girl, and I think..."

I hit a button, activating my mike and interrupted playfully, "Alright, Simon, I'm a great girl, now get out."

He grinned at me through the glass wall that separated all the studios. "With no more ado, Chelsea."

"Good morning, Great Britain! How are we this fine day? If you're rocking strong, have I got a song for you!" I flipped the switch on the record player and _All Day and All of the Night_ started. I glanced out the window to the general observation area. Simon gave me a thumbs up and grinned. I returned them and then immersed myself in my new job.

At the end of my shift, I gave a little closing speech before passing it on to Dave. "Well, my friends, it is time for me to pass my throne to the court doctor. I do hope I haven't bored anyone to death, and I shall be right back here tomorrow, same time. Peace!"

Dave waved at me from his studio and immediately went into his broadcast. I smiled and exited only to find myself in a throng of people cheering for me. "You did wonderfully!" Simon cried.

I laughed and accepted his hug. "Thank you, Simon. But, unfortunately, it doesn't really matter what you say. It's all up to the listeners."

"I think they'll love you. You were quite funny, you had a very good balance of commentary and music, and I think people will be able to relate to you."

"Really?"

"Absolutely!" the Count jumped in. "I listened to your whole show. I laughed a few times, and I wasn't even drunk."

I snorted. "That's reassuring, Count. Thanks."

He grinned. "You're very welcome."

"You need a witty name," Simon said.

"Yeah, Chelsea is a little plain compared with the Count and Simple Simon and Midnight Mark," I said. "Should it be something with another C word? Chillin' Chelsea? No, that's too lame."

The Count shrugged. "It's no worse than Simple Simon."

Simon just kind of stared at him, and I laughed. Quietly, from the corner, Kevin said, "Well, you have a rather ample...bosom. You could be Chesty Chelsea."

We all turned and stared at him. Finally, I just couldn't hold the guffaw in any longer. I busted out laughing. The Count followed suit while Simon just shook his head and smiled. Kevin shrugged and grinned. When I could manage it, I told him, "Kevin, that was actually kind of clever, and simply because you had enough grasp of your senses to come up with it, I'm not going to be offended." The Count just continued to cackle. "Well done, Kevin. Truly, well done. Now, is there a dictionary on this boat? I need to look for a good name!"

We headed to the living room and rummaged through all the books to find the singular dictionary on board. I plopped down on the couch and Simon sat next to me while the Count went to get a beer. I flipped through the CH- pages looking for ideas. "How about Chancy Chelsea?" Simon said.

"Are you out of your mind?" Count asked.

"I thought it would be ok!"

I interrupted, "I could follow in your footsteps, Count. Chancellor Chelsea."

He grimaced. "I think Chancellor might be a higher rank than Count, and I'm sorry, but I can't allow that."

"Ugh. That one was actually pretty good!"

"I'm sorry!"

"No, you're not," I muttered as I stuck my nose back in the book. I flipped another page. "What about Cheeky Chelsea."

"Well, that's not bad!" Simon said. "You're plenty cheeky. You proved that this morning."

The Count took a sip of beer and nodded. "I like it."

Quentin chose that moment to enter the room. "What do you like?"

"Cheeky Chelsea as her DJ name."

He nodded. "I think it's fine. From what I've seen, it fits you well." I grinned and nodded sarcastically, while he gave me a quick salute and left.

"Wonderful! You are now an official Radio Rock DJ!" Simon said happily.

Felicity applauded from where she was cooking supper in the kitchen. "Thanks, Felicity," I called. "Now we just pray the people like me."

I don't suppose I need to mention that I became quite popular. Popular enough that Quentin decided I could stay on for a while. I was still the temporary exception to his rule, but I was a part of the Radio Rock family, and it felt good.


	3. Chapter 3

A few weeks into my DJ job, Quentin announced that his godson, Carl, would be joining us on the ship. The night he announced this, we all gathered in the living room to discuss it. Simon sat on the couch, so I went and sat beside him, then decided to lay my head in his lap. The Count gave me a funny look, so I said, "What? It's comfortable!" He shrugged. "And he's only my best friend in the entire world. I ought to be able to put my head in his lap when I want to."

"Yeah!" Simon added.

"Simon, it might be best if you just stay out of it," I said, patting his knee. He scowled a little, and I laughed. "So! This Carl kid. What do you think about that? Anyone know how old he is?"

"Like, 18, I think," Count answered.

"Did any of you all even know Quentin had a godson?"

"I did!" John volunteered.

"As did I," Dave said around a cigarette.

"I was not aware," Angus added in.

I turned and looked up at Simon. "How about you?"

"No, he did not see fit to give me that information."

I grinned and pat his cheek. "You're adorable. Anyway, I think it'll be interesting to have a new guy on the boat."

"You're just hoping he's cute," Count chuckled.

"No! If he's 18, that's way too young. I don't rob cradles like you. How old were those girls last Sex-sational Saturday? 18? 19?"

He grinned at me around his beer. Once he took a gulp, he replied, "20, thank you very much."

"Oh! Forgive me."

"It's done, my faithful subject."

I flipped him off and turned back to Simon. "What do you think, Simon? Think this Carl fellow will fit in?"

He shrugged. "If he's anything like Quentin, he will."

"I was under the impression that Quentin doesn't even know him very well."

"Yeah, see there was a lost decade..."

About two weeks later, Carl arrived. It was a rather stormy evening, and we were all gathered again in the living room, hanging out. Felicity was successfully burning toast, I was beating John at Foosball, and everyone else was just milling about trying to find ways to amuse themselves. Quentin came down the stairs and quieted us. "Yes, hello, thank you. I'd like to introduce Carl, my godson."

"Welcome aboard. I'm the Count, who must be obeyed," the Count said while moving forward to shake Carl's hand. The kid was a skinny little thing. He actually kind of looked like Quentin.

"It's an honor," Carl replied.

Simon quickly stepped up. "Hi, Carl! Don't miss Simple Simon's Super Sunday Smashes! I'm Simon. That's why I just said that."

Angus and John introduced themselves, then Felicity walked up with her hands full of plates with burnt toast. "Hi, I'm Felicity."

"I didn't think that girls were allowed on the boat," Carl said.

"Oh, I'm a lesbian...I cook. Have a piece of toast."

As Carl took a piece, Angus asked, "Do you know what a lesbian is?"

"Um...yes, I do," he replied.

"Fun times, eh?"

I snorted and approached Carl. "I'm not a lesbian, and I don't cook. I'm the temporary exception to the rule. Name's Chelsea."

"Hello."

"I'm Thick Kevin," Kevin called.

"Ah!" Quentin chimed in. "Your delightful roommate."

"Oh, great! I'm Carl."

"Cool name," Kevin said.

"Why Thick Kevin?"

"No idea."

"It's 'cuz he's really, really thick!" Dave cut in from the bar.

"This is, of course, Dave," Kevin said.

Dave spun around on his stool as Carl grinned and said, "Wow."

Dave nodded. "Big, but very beautiful. Welcome...to the boat of love." We all burst into laughter while Quentin just covered his face with his hands.

I came to learn that Carl had been sent to the boat by his mother because he had been expelled from school for smoking both drugs and cigarettes. Upon hearing this, I informed him, "Carl, I believe you are going to fit in here very well."

He really wasn't cute. I mean, there was a little bit of a sense of adorableness, but it wasn't that attractive. It actually made him look a little vulnerable. I still liked the guy, though. He was quiet at first, but after a few days aboard, he opened up. One afternoon, we were sitting topside, and he asked me, "Why did Quentin let you on board?"

"He wanted a test subject. He wanted to see how the audiences would react to a female DJ. Speaking of, did you listen to the station at all while on the outside?"

"I did, yeah."

"Did you ever hear any comments about me from any friends or anything?"

"Um...a few, but I'm not sure you'd want to hear them."

"Why not?" I exclaimed. "Were they bad?"

"Not...in a manner of speaking. A think a few mentioned shagging, and there was one unpleasant comment that had to do with cheeks...you know, because of your name."

I grinned. "Yeah. Well, I guess it's nice to know I have a sexy voice. Besides, I get comments like that on the ship all the time."

"Really?" he laughed.

"I swear. These guys don't hold anything back. How have they been treating you?"

"Fine. Really great. So, you seem to be really good friends with Simon."

"Oh, yeah. Love him to death."

"Anything gonna come out of that?"

Realizing his implication, I quickly answered, "Oh, no! No way. Me and Simon are just friends. Totally just friends."

"Ok. Sorry. I was just curious."

"That's alright, man. I've been asked by the other guys too if something more was going on, but I promise there isn't. Just best friends forever!"

"Cool."

That night, Simon, Kevin, the Count, Carl, John, and I gathered for a game of Guess Who. I got paired with the Count, and Carl and Kevin were put together while John kept time and Simon wrote down the people. "Alright! The Tuesday night of fun begins!" Simon said. "Who wants to go first?"

"We will!" I said. "You wanna guess?"

Count nodded. "I'll guess."

"Big bad Chels," Simon said. "Here." He handed me his hat filled with the names he had written down. "Ready, John?"

"I am. 60 seconds starting from...now!"

I yanked the first paper out. "Oh, this is easy. Your president!"

"Lyndon Johnson!" the Count cried.

"Yes! Next. He wrote Oliver Twist."

"Oh! Uh...Charles Dickens! Go, go, go!"

"Lead singer of the Rolling Stones!"

"Mick Jagger."

"Um...he's a spy. 007."

"BOND! James Bond."

"Yes! Oh, and the actor who plays him. 'Oh, hello, I'm James Bond.'"

"Sean Connery!" he replied, laughing at my impression.

"Yes! Oh, hello, I'm a Beatle," I said in my best John Lennon imitation, but John called time.

"That one doesn't count," Simon said.

Count laughed, "That was going to be good!"

"It was!" I said. I high-fived him, then sat back down. "5-0!"

Kevin stood up and faced Carl. "Alright. Are you ready to rock?"

Simon leaned over to Carl and said, "Ok, the thing about Kev is you've got to think outside the box. Actually, forget the box all together."

"60 seconds from...now!" John announced.

Kevin looked down at his paper and said, "It's a type of bird but it's wearing a hat." There was a moment of silence as Carl just stared at him, so he continued to elaborate. "It's something that's at the top of a coat, and it's attached to the coat, and it covers the head, but it is not a hat."

"A hood?" Carl suggested.

"Yes! And now, first name is a type of bird. It's something hood."

"ROBIN HOOD!"

"Yes!"

We all cheered. "Why didn't you just say he lived in Sherwood Forest and has a bow and arrow?"

"Yeah. Wait, what? Who you talking about?"

"...Robin Hood."

"I didn't know that."

"Time's still running, guys!" I said.

Kevin looked down at his next paper. "Ok, um...hold on." He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "Nice guy."

"Nice guy," Carl repeated.

"Yup. Really nice guy."

The Count was just cracking up, and I was on the verge of it myself. "Is that it?"

"No. He's got lots of friends, and he has long hair."

"Jimmy Hendrix?"

"No, much older."

"I know this!" Count cackled.

"No shoes."

Carl shook his head. "Nice guy, has long hair, friends, no shoes..."

"He wore a dress."

"...a dress. Better not be Jesus."

"YES! Jesus! Rock on!"

"WOOO!" I cheered.

Carl asked, "Why didn't you say he was the son of God?"

Kevin's face became shocked. "Is he?"

I was simply rolling with laughter. I laughed so hard I fell right off the couch. "Time!" John called.

Simon shook his head. "It was like watching a baby drown."

I just kept laughing into the rug, pretty sure I was going to pass out from lack of air at any moment. The Count asked, "Does that mean we win?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"YAY!" I shouted.

"When you said forget the box, I didn't realize just how far away from the box we would have to go!" Carl said.

I looked up at him and said, "Don't feel bad. I got paired with Kevin on my first night. We did rather well, didn't we, Kev?"

"When?" he answered.

I just shook my head. "Nevermind." I climbed up off the floor and announced, "I am going to bed."

"No, you're not," the Count replied.

"Why?"

"You promised to help me sort through the Foolish Idea letters."

"Fuck!" I told the ceiling. "Why do you have to do that tonight?"

"Because I told them I'd do the foolish idea tomorrow, and I haven't gone through them all yet."

"You are the worst procrastinator I know! Well, come on, then!" I offered him my hands and pulled him out of the chair. "Let's go figure out how you're going to make a fool of yourself tomorrow." We went to his room, and I was dismayed to find a whole laundry basket full of letters. "Have you gone through ANY of them?"

"Nope," he chuckled.

"Damn." I sat myself on the floor and grabbed the first letter. I tore it open and read it quickly. "This one says you should take your broadcast into the bathroom whenever you need to use it."

He raised an eyebrow. "That's not too bad an idea."

"Of course it is! These are all bad ideas."

He shrugged. "I said what I said. I gotta do one of them. And we got a lot more to get through."

I didn't get to bed until after 2, but we had found the best bad idea in the pile. Even I liked it. It was going to be quite the sensation.


	4. Chapter 4

The next night, during Count's broadcast, we all gathered in the observation room. John finished his newscast with, "We'll meet again in one hour. This is John Mayford, and until then...this man!"

Count came in. "Ok, so this was the deal. I asked all of you to demand of me to do a very foolish thing. You sent in ideas in the thousands, but one idea has defeated them all. So, I'm proud to announce that I will soon be the first person to say the f word on Rock n' Roll radio in the United Kingdom of Great Britain." We all burst into applause. The Count acknowledged us, then went on. "My aim is not to offend, it is to entertain...and also, perhaps, educate a little. When you shoot a gun, someone dies; when you drop a bomb, many die; when you hit a woman, love dies; but, when you say the f word, nothing actually happens. So, here it comes, especially for you, the f word..." Quentin burst into his studio and knocked on the wall, motioning to stop. "Fffffff...first, though, this very fine piece of music." He turned on a record and turned to face Quentin.

"You can't do this," Quentin said.

"Why not? It's just a word!"

"Charming thought, but here's the simple situation. The authorities already dislike us. If you do this, they will hate us, and by hook or by crook they will find a way to close us down."

"They can't close us down! We're pirates. That's why we're sitting out here in the middle of the freaking ocean!"

"Yeah!" we all called.

"Believe me, they will find a way. Governments loathe people being free."

"Ok...I'm thinking about it."

"Boo!" we said.

"Come on, Quentin!" I exclaimed.

The Count turned back to his microphone. "My dear comrades, I have some sad news. The powers that be have decreed that the f word is a word too far. But, at least for now, even though our dreams of freedom have died a tragic death, The Hollies are still alive." He turned on a new record.

"Thank you," Quentin said.

"I don't know why you did that. I was just going to say fuck once. One tiny little fuck."

"There's no such thing as a tiny little fuck."

"Yeah, there is," Dave said through the mike in our room. "Ask Angus' girlfriend!"

We all laughed as Quentin went on, "Be that as it may, there is no fuck so small that it won't fuck us up. One day, in a world of dreams, you'll be able to say wank, or bollocks, or even cock on the radio, but fuck...never."

Harold went flying out of our room to the door of the studio. "Excuse me, your lordship!" he said.

"Yes, Harold?" the Count replied.

"You've left your mike up in the studio."

The resounding laughter that greeted that statement was all the louder because we knew it was being echoed all over Great Britain. Quentin looked like he wanted to dive out a window into the North Sea. "Oh!" Count exclaimed. "So I have. I do apologize to everyone out there for the four...or was it five?"

"It was five!" Angus said.

"F words. The Hollies will continue undisturbed." He turned the volume up on the record and turned off his mike. "I'm so sorry about that, Quentin." Quentin nodded with one of those looks where you knew you were in trouble, and you couldn't help but laugh. "I thought you sounded good! Lovely radio voice."

"Fuck off," Quentin said before promptly exiting.

"SIX!" I cried. I gave the Count a standing ovation that everyone gladly copied.

In the morning, we were all gathered around the breakfast table topside while Simon did his broadcast. Angus leaned across the table and asked Carl, "You looking forward to Saturday?"

"What's Saturday?"

"Sex-sational Saturday," the Count replied.

"As you may have noticed," Angus continued, "There are unfortunably no women on this boat, apart from Felicity...yoo hoo!..." Felicity waved from where she was cooking on a grill. "...who is of the lesbionic tendency, and lovely Chelsea who deems us all very ugly."

"No offense, Carl," I said around a bite of egg. He just shook his head and shrugged.

"But," Angus went on, "every second Saturday, every DJ is allowed to invite one female onto the boat." All the guys cheered. "So, any idea who you'll invite?"

"Um...is there the presumption that there will be...sex?"

"Every time," Count answered.

"Then, no. I've spent my life at all boy schools. The closest I've ever come to a snog was when I was once licked on the face by a horse."

"Sounds good actually."

I punched the Count in the shoulder. "You're disgusting." He just laughed and punched me back.

Dave came in. "Sorry to hear that, Carl, my son. I would seriously like to help. I'll put my mind to it."

"How are you lined up, Ang?" I asked.

"Well, her name is Daphne."

"I see. And she likes the bearded man?"

"She does indeed."

"And a tiny knob!" Dave said.

"Whatever!"

Suddenly, from the far end of the table, Kevin said, "I've got a tiny knob actually. But I kind of like it. Means I can wear smaller underpants."

We all stared at him until the Count said, "Don't know what that means. I didn't understand any of that."

I snorted and went back to eating. Carl leaned over to me and pointed up at a man sunbathing on the higher deck. "Who's that? I haven't met him yet."

Quentin actually answered, as he had just emerged. "That's Mark. He's the sexiest man on the planet. Hardly every speaks. Not even when he's broadcasting, which is...interesting."

"So, that's Midnight Mark."

"It is, it is," I said. "I think I've only talked to that man twice, and I've been on this boat for nearly two months. And when I say talked, I mean I said hi and he nodded in my direction." That got a laugh out of just about everyone.

On Saturday, everyone with a date was anxiously awaiting their arrival. I joined Carl and Simon up on the higher deck. "Haven't you got someone?" I asked Simon.

"No," he said. "Not today. I guess, I'm really looking for that one true love thing."

"Really?"

"Yeah! Oh, yeah. Big time."

I ruffled his hair. "You are just too cute sometimes." He grinned and tried to ruffle my hair in return, but I ducked out of reach.

"Here they come," Carl said.

We looked out at the transport boat. It was full of waving, giggling, smiling girls. "Wowzer," Simon said a little choked-like. "Oh my god, it's like a boat of honey. I want to sleep with them all." He rang the bell that was immediately to his left, then started waving like a mad man. Carl joined him. I just laughed.

When all was said and done, Carl, Simon, Felicity, John, and I were without a date. We gathered in the living room. Carl was messing with a camera, Simon was reading a book about woodpeckers, Felicity was playing solitaire, and John was just kind of sitting there awkwardly. I sat next to Simon, and he turned and put his feet up in my lap. I pat his leg affectionately, then started untying and tying his shoestrings. We all stared after the Count as he escorted two girls up the stairs towards his room. Once they were gone, Simon said, "This is actually a pretty interesting book."

"Is it?" I asked.

"Yes. It's...uh...well, my father used to collect woodpeckers."

Carl asked, "Really?"

"Yeah...no. No, my father was an architect. How about you? What did your father do?"

"Well, he had sex with my mum, then left without leaving his name or address."

"No!"

"Yeah."

"No!"

"It's cool! I mean, you don't miss what you've never had." He paused, then looked over at Felicity and John. "Nothing planned, you guys?"

"It's gonna be a quiet afternoon for me and my sex life," Felicity replied as she opened a Coke.

Just then, Dave entered. "Oh, sad room." I flipped him off. He just ignored me and went to Carl. "I've come to get you out of your predicament."

"What predicament?" Carl said.

"Your no girl, unused/pencil-sized penis predicament."

"Oh. That one."

"Walk this way." He took off, and Carl looked to me and Simon for guidance.

Simon shook his head. "Don't walk that way." Carl just kind of shrugged. "No! Walk woodpecker way." I snorted, and Carl just smiled and followed after Dave.

"Eh, Chelsea, did you have a boy back on the mainland?" Simon asked once they were gone.

"No. No, I didn't. I wasn't much into the dating scene. Seemed a bit dangerous to me."

"I suppose I can see that."

John said, "I'm sure you were popular, though. You're very pretty."

"Thanks, John. You are too." With that statement, our mood lightened a great deal.

A few nights later, we were eating supper in the living room/kitchen, just laughing and talking like always, when this guy walked in that I had never actually seen. He had a bushy beard and matching hair. He fixed himself a plate, then sat down at the end of the table. Conversation ceased and he looked up, realizing his arrival was what caused it. "Hi," he said.

None of us really knew what to say. Finally, the Count said, "Sorry, man, but who are you?"

"Um...I'm Bob. Smooth Bob. Bob Silver of the Dawn Treader. I do the early, early, early morning show."

That's when I realized I had completely forgotten about Bob since the night I arrived. "You're Bob!" I said.

"Yeah," he answered with a small smile.

"How long you been on the boat, Bob?" Count asked.

"Hmm...seven months. Every morning, 3am to 6 am."

"Well, then how come we've never met you?"

"Oh, you know. I keep myself to myself. Lot of sleeping. Fair amount of drugs. Total emotional involvement in the music. I mean, you've got to listen to it if you're gonna give the people what they need in, in their hearts, in their souls."

"Totally," I said, nodding.

He nodded, then said, "Better be getting back to the sounds. It's a bit hectic in here."

We all stared at him as he walked out. Once he was out of hearing range, I said, "That's Bob."

The Count waved his hands around and went, "Whoosh!" to describe how Bob had appeared and disappeared.

"Yeah, that's about right," Dave said.

Slowly, Kevin asked, "What was his name again?"

Carl shook his head and replied, "Really?"


	5. Chapter 5

A good couple months passed with no real significant happenings other than the government declaring that advertising on pirate radio stations was illegal for British companies. We didn't see Bob once. Life was actually getting a bit monotonous, but fate saw fit to change that. One night, as we all, yet again, congregated in the living area, Quentin came in with John on his tail. John blew a whistle a little too loudly for the confined space, and we all jumped and complained. Quentin rolled his eyes and began, "I have a very important announcement. As you may know, there has been a serious squeeze put on our advertisement by her majesty's government. This chart...which is upside-down." John quickly flipped it over. "Thank you. This chart displays what's been happening to our advertising revenue in the last few weeks." The trend was clearly one in the downwards direction.

"Ouch," Count commented.

"So, I've had to stir myself with my traditional languor and do something to make the station more attractive to commercial funds. Two years ago, something terrible happened, and we lost the greatest DJ pirate radio has ever known to America, ambition...and alcoholic poisoning." Everyone but the Count, Carl, and I seemed to know what was being talked about. "And then, in return, we got from America a man who proved more than capable of filling those enormous shoes."

"Woo!" I said and went over and clapped the Count on the shoulder.

"I do my humble best," he replied.

"And now, my friends, I have good news," Quentin continued. "Very good news. The strange and mysterious legend known as Gavin Cavanaugh has decided to return."

"No!" Simon cried in disbelief. Angus got this really excited look on his face and jumped up. Others also offered such displays of shock and excitement.

"Three weeks from today, Gavin Cavanaugh returns to rock on Radio Rock."

While the everyone else cheered, I simply said, "Yay?" I had no idea who this guy was, or why they were so excited about his return. The Count seemed just as clueless, and yet, he seemed a little put out by this news. Maybe he knew who Gavin was better than I thought.

Simon ran over to me and grabbed my hands, then started jumping up and down. "Be happy, Chelsea!" he said as we hopped.

"Why? I don't even know this guy."

"Believe me, when he gets here, you'll be glad you do." The next three weeks were spent awaiting Gavin Cavanaugh's arrival. I still didn't understand why everyone was so pumped, so I just dealt with their joyousness.

On the morning he was set to arrive, I was down in the studio watching Simon do his broadcast. He was nearly vibrating with excitement. "And this next song is for the coolest man on the planet, and he is about to step on board this ship! It is gorgeous Gavin Cavanaugh, and this week he is definitely number one!" Simon announced to his listeners just before starting a record, ripping off his headphones, and coming out of the studio. I was the only one down there. He grinned and grabbed my hand. "You're gonna want to see this, Chels."

I laughed as he yanked me up the stairs to the deck. "Why?" I called just as we emerged. We ran to the starboard side of the ship with everyone else, and I suddenly knew why. The transport boat was headed for us, and at the front was a man. He had on a deep purple suit with a stylish black hat. There were two, long feathers sticking out of it into the air, and his chin-length blonde hair was sticking out the bottom. He had on sunglasses, and it was obvious he thought himself completely cool. Everyone started calling out his name and waving like crazy people, so he kissed the tips of two fingers and pointed out at us. I scoffed and laughed a bit. "What a freak!"

"You better believe it!" Dave answered. "He's only the most amazing DJ that has ever been on Radio Rock!"

"Huh," I said to myself, turning my gaze back to the freak on the boat. There was something dreadfully sexy about this guy. It was sexiness I hadn't seen since boarding this ship. I finally decided it was the sunglasses.

Eventually, the boat reached us and Gavin Cavanaugh boarded Radio Rock. He went through hugging and shaking hands with the people he knew, and when he reached the Count, he said, "And you must be the Count!"

"I am he," Count replied a little stiffly.

Gavin held out his hand. "I wonder what that makes me. The king?"

"Or the clown." They shook hands while the rest of us laughed.

"Good to meet ya." He then moved down the line to Felicity and me. "And you are?" he asked her first.

"Felicity," she answered, shaking his hand.

"Rules change?" he inquired of Quentin.

"Oh, I'm a lesbian," she put in.

"Groovy! Always or mostly?"

"Absolutely always."

"So you say," he murmured, grabbing her butt. She jumped and laughed, then he turned to me. "And you?" he said smoothly. "You a lesbian too?"

"No. No, I'm not. Temporary exception to the rule. I'm Chelsea." I held out my hand to him.

Slowly, he took it. "Pleased to meet you, sweetheart," he said. Then, he turned back to everyone else. "Now! Take me to a microphone. I need to broadcast." He gave a quick salute to the Count who returned it.

And thus, the new Gavin Cavanaugh era commenced.

His first words at the mike were, "Are you doing something dirty? Are you doing something your parents don't know about? Are you breaking the law? Are breaking the rules? Open your knees and feel the breeze because Gavin's back...to stay."

I watched him work along with all the others. They really thought he was the greatest thing alive. Granted, he was charming, had a great voice, and he was hilarious, but...yeah, I was beginning to think he was too.

We all observed his shift for days, dancing and laughing. One day, as usual, I was dancing with Simon, and as the song ended, I turned around, and my eyes happened to catch on Gavin. He wore those sunglasses at all times of the day, but there was just enough transparency to see where his eyes were looking if the light hit them right, and his eyes were looking right at me. I basically froze like a deer in headlights for a split second, staring back into those eyes. It scared me a little. Was I happy that he was watching me? Maybe I had just caught him in a glance...so why was he still staring? Then, I blinked, breaking the gaze in which he had locked me, and I turned away. Even then, I could feel those eyes boring into my back. I almost ran from the room.

In the days following, I avoided Gavin, hoping to avoid making a fool of myself, and I think everyone noticed. Finally, the Count cornered me in the kitchen one afternoon, and bluntly asked, "Has Gavin been bothering you or something?"

"No. Why?"

"You leave the room every single time he walks in."

"It's nothing, Count. It's really nothing."

"Listen, I swore to protect you while you were aboard this vessel, and I intend to do that. If something is bothering you, tell me."

I smiled. "You can't protect me from a feeling, Count." Then, without allowing him to say anything more, I simply cleared out.

I had formed a bad habit of falling asleep on the couch in the living room, and it turned to my disadvantage. I had drifted off after a late game of Foosball with Mark, and I awoke to someone rummaging rather loudly around in the cabinets. I opened my eyes a crack and saw that it was Gavin. I was rather annoyed that he had woken me up, so I muttered, "What are you looking for?"

"The crackers."

"Crackers?" I whispered to myself. "Cabinet closest to the stove. Top shelf."

He grabbed them, then said, "Thanks, pigeon."

"Pigeon?" I scoffed, but he was already gone. I just couldn't get over this dreadful shyness around him. I tried to sound tough when I actually was around him, and it usually made me sound really stand-offish. I actually thought he was pretty freaking awesome, but I was scared to even hang out with him. I was beginning to wish he had never come aboard at all.

The next day, I was talking to Simon topside, and I noticed Gavin smoking up on the higher deck. My gaze kept slipping away from Simon and up to Gavin. Eventually, Simon noticed. "Why do you keep looking at him?"

"What?"

"Gavin! You keep looking at him."

"SHH!" I hissed.

He looked at Gavin, then back at me. "Oh...no. Don't tell me...you like him, don't you?"

"No! I absolutely do not! I think he's cool is all."

"Oh, come on. You can tell me! I'm your best friend, remember?"

"Seriously, Simon, I just think he's cool. Besides, what would a guy like that see in me?"

"Only that you're sexy, and funny, and quite cool yourself."

"Whatever," I said with a smile.

"Really! So, are you admitting to liking him?"

"No! For the last time, no. What can I say to convince you?"

He shrugged. "I dunno." I shook my head and playfully shoved him.

Later, I was ascending the stairs towards my room, and as I neared Gavin's floor, I heard Carl say, "Thank you, Gavin. I really appreciate it."

"Don't mention it, youngster. Remember, be gentle, but be firm. Be very firm indeed. And when you're done with it, run it under the tap, rinse it out, and use it again."

By this point, I had reached the top of the stairs. I stopped, closed my eyes, and grimaced. Carl came running by me. "Sorry, excuse me, Chelsea." He took off down the stairs that I had just come up.

When I opened my eyes, Gavin was still leaning on his door frame. I said, "The curse of living on a ship of men. You walk into all kinds of conversations you wish you had never heard."

One corner of his mouth lifted into a very alluring smile. "By the way, I'm sorry about waking you up the other night," he said.

"Oh...that's alright. I'm always grumpy when I wake up. I wasn't really mad."

He nodded. "Cool."

I nodded, too, and repeated, "Cool," before turning to go up the next flight of stairs.

"Hey!" he called, just as my foot was on the first step.

"Yeah?" I replied a little quickly.

"I listened to your show the other day. I thought you did very well."

"Thanks," I answered, irrationally thrilled at having received his approval. I smiled, looked at my shoes, then back at him, and said, "See ya," before jogging up the stairs.

Once I got to my room, I collapsed on my bed, unable to stop smiling. I was acting like a freaking teenager. I was terribly aware that, no matter what I had told Simon, I was crushing big time on Gavin Cavanaugh. While I was pretty sure it would lead to nothing, I decided I was going to allow it to continue, just for a little while. And, just as I came to that conclusion, there was a knock at my door. I opened it to find Gavin standing there. "What?" I asked.

"I realized as you disappeared up the steps that I really haven't gotten the chance to talk to you since I've been here, and I was going to see if you would like to join me on deck for a friendly conversation."

"A friendly conversation?"

"Yeah. You know, where are you from? Where'd you go to school? How old are you? That sort of conversation."

"Mhm. Well, Mr. Gavin Cavanaugh, I think I'm going to take you up on that offer."

"Groovy."

I slipped my shoes on, then followed him out to the deck. We went to the stairs to the higher deck and sat down side by side about halfway up. He lit a cigarette, took a puff, then offered it to me. "I don't smoke," I said quietly.

He shrugged. "Can't blame you. They say it does terrible things to your voice if you do it long enough. It would be a shame to ruin a voice like yours."

"The same can be said of your voice as well. Why do you think you're so popular as a radio DJ? All they have of you is your voice."

He nodded and took another puff. "Oh well." I chuckled and looked out over the North Sea. "So," he said slowly, "where are you from?"

"Sheringham. You?"

"Pembrokeshire, Wales."

"Ah, I thought there was a tiny bit of Welsh twang in that accent of yours."

He grinned. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-five. Almost twenty-six. You?"

"Mm, I wish I was still in the twenties. I'm thirty-three."

"That's not bad."

"Maybe not, but it sounds bad."

"You've got girls of all ages all throughout the UK that absolutely adore you. They don't care how old you are. Does that sound better?"

"A little," he chuckled. "And what about you? I'm sure you've got a fan-base out there. Imagine how many guys jack off to the sound of your voice."

"Fuck, that was not a visual I needed!" I exclaimed, shoving him.

He snorted and shoved me back. "Just picture it. All those guys..."

"No! Shush! Shut up!" I put my hand over his mouth. "No more of that," I said before removing it.

"Fair enough." He waited a moment before asking, "Do you like being a DJ?"

"Yeah, I really do. I only recently discovered my love for rock n' roll, but this job has helped it along so much. And this group of people is the best. I love this ship. How could you leave?"

He grew thoughtful and looked out to the horizon. "I felt held back. I don't know why. I've tried to explain it to myself ever since I left. I just needed bigger and better things."

"And yet, here you are again."

"Yeah." He turned his gaze to me. "The bigger and better things turned out to be not quite big enough and not quite better enough."

"You're more insightful than I ever gave you credit for."

He raised an eyebrow. "I could very well say the same."

As the sun disappeared, he actually took his sunglasses off. "Oh my god! The glasses come off?" I cried. "I thought they were permanently fixed to your face!"

He rolled his eyes. "Ha ha."

"You have eyes! And they're...blue? I don't know. It's dark out here."

"Yeah, they're blue."

I glanced down at my watch. It was going on 10 o'clock. "I think I better go to bed," I decided, and I stood up. "Thanks for the friendly conversation. I don't feel as shy around you anymore."

He smiled up at me. "Good. That was my intent." I jogged down to the deck, and right as I got there, he called, "Nighty night, pigeon."

I turned and gave him a grin. "Night, Gavin."


	6. Chapter 6

Gavin and I started hanging out all the time after that night. We were rarely seen apart. He became my second Simon...to an extent. I wouldn't dare lay my head in his lap, and I was very self-conscious about dancing around him. The crush on him continued to remain prevalent in my mind, but I managed to maintain some amount of cool when he looked at me.

One afternoon, right before Dave went on his shift, he stuck his head in the studio and asked, "So, you and Gavin sleeping together yet?"

"What?" I squeaked.

He grinned mischievously. "Every woman sleeps with Gavin before long. Don't feel ashamed to join the ranks."

"I have not slept with him, and it is not in my future plans!" I said angrily. "Mind your own damn business, David!"

"Your song's over."

With an annoyed huff, I turned back to the machines and turned on my mike. "Well, it's time for me to check out once again. Here's your man Dr. Dave!" I turned off everything and stormed out. I rounded a corner and ran smack dab into Gavin.

"Easy!" he said, grabbing my arms to steady me. "Where you going in such a moody rush?"

Without thinking a lot, I yanked my arms away from him, and growled, "Away from you." I stalked around him, and made my way towards the door to the deck.

"Hey!" he called. When I didn't acknowledge him, he started following me. "Don't walk away from me!" Still, I ignored him. I burst onto the deck and went right to the nose of the ship. I really didn't know why I was so pissed. I wasn't pissed at Gavin, but he was the source of extreme discomfort at the moment, and I could hardly bear to look at him. It didn't surprise me when he slid up beside me. "What's going on, Chels? Did I do something?"

I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "No, Gavin, it wasn't you. I'm sorry."

"What was it?"

"Dave."

"What'd he do?"

"It was just something he said."

"What'd he say?" he sighed a little impatiently.

"It's nothing! Really. He was just being stupid."

Gavin turned so that his back was leaning on the railings, and he could look me in the face a little better. "What did he say, Chelsea?"

Without looking at him, I mumbled, "He asked if we had slept together yet."

A little to my surprise, he busted out laughing, but upon seeing my expression, he reigned himself in. "Sorry. It just...it struck me funny."

"I can see that." I had a little bit of a glare going on, and he quickly moved to explain.

"See, I've got a bit of a track record..."

"I don't doubt it."

"...and apparently I have a bit of a reputation amongst the guys for sleeping with every girl I talk to."

"Probably within a few moments of talking to her."

"All I'm saying," he persisted, "is that it wasn't anything against you."

I just shook my head and sighed. "You'd think I would be used to this shit by now. Especially from Dave. You know, I don't really like him that much."

"Really? I couldn't tell," he muttered sarcastically.

I smiled a little. "Yeah, whatever. Listen, I'm sorry I snapped at you."

"Don't mention it, sweetheart. Living with a bunch of guys has to be difficult. I think you're probably allowed a few moody outbursts."

"I think I agree with you."

"Now, what do you say we go tell Nutsford that someone threw his favorite hat overboard?" he suggested, pointing at where the hat was floating on the swells.

"And watch him desperately stare at it while unable to do anything?" A huge grin spread across both of our faces and we took off at a run.

In the morning, I was rather abruptly woken up by someone knocking on my door. I stumbled over and opened it. It was Simon. In a very loud, high pitch voice, he said, "Hey, Chels!"

"Simon," I said, a little overwhelmed by the noise. "What's up?"

"Chelsea, my girl. My best girl," he practically sang. "I've got some news! I don't know what I'm saying. I can't even...my word are just coming out in tune. If I were the Count right now, I would definitely be using the f word to describe the level of this good neeeewwwsss! Hold me!"

"Ok!" I laughed, completely unsure of what exactly was going on. I wrapped my arms around him. "What's going on, man?"

"I'm getting married!"

"WHAT?" 

"To a woman!"

I shoved him out to arm's length. "Who? You never told me about anyone!"

"Her name's Elenore. I met her on one of my trips to the mainland. She's an American. We've been talking for a few months now, and she said we should get married, so I asked, and she said yes!"

"SIMON! That's wonderful! Have you told anyone else?"

"No. I wanted you to be the first to know."

"Since you will soon be taken, I have to do something." I took his face between both of my hands and kissed him soundly on the lips. "There! The groom has been kissed. Let's go tell everyone else!"

I gathered everyone into the living room, and Simon made his announcement. The reaction was much as mine had been. Lots of cheering, and shocked exclamations. The Count said something along the lines of, "You're fucking doing fucking what?"

Angus cried, "Give her one for the Nutster!"

"Yeah, I won't," Simon replied.

Finally, Gavin's voice stood out above the rest. "What's the lovely lady's name?"

"Elenore. She's an American!" What would later prove rather bad for me was I missed the strange expression on Gavin's face when Simon answered him.

"Well, I hope you all appreciate what this means," Quentin said. "From next Saturday there will, for the first time, be a woman living on the boat...no offense meant Felicity and Chelsea."

"Oh, none taken," Felicity replied. "I'm actually quite excited about it."

"Hands off, you lesbian!" Angus joked.

Quentin grinned, but grew serious when he said, "Elenore will be exclusive to her lucky husband here. I hope you gentlemen can take it." He then turned and left.

"For my eyes only!" Simon said.

The Count came in with, "May I just say, now that Quentin has departed, the one word which I believe is the only word in the world which now matters, and that word is..."

"Matrimony," Simon filled in.

Count just kind of stared at him, then cried, "STAG!"

We all started cheering. Angus jumped up and put his thumbs against his head with his fingers pointing out and started making a weird noise. Finally, Simon said, "Oh, that's a stag!"

"Yes!" Angus cried.

"I thought you were having a seizure or something, but it's all good now."

When I say we partied all day, I literally mean all day. There was a Foosball tournament that came down to me and Carl, and when I nearly broke one of the rods scoring the winning point, everyone starting cheering like mad. Simon started choking me in a hug, and when he let go, the Count and I screamed in each others faces and jumped up and down. Felicity baked a cake and the candles were cigarettes. There was one for each of us. I took mine, toasted Simon with it like the others, then promptly handed it to Gavin. There was a great amount of drinking that happened, and I got totally hammered. Simon passed out on the floor, and I passed out right on top of him, draped across his midsection. In retrospect, I'm actually pretty surprised he could breathe.

It was what happened after passing out on Simon that had the most effect on me however. I was roused by Gavin quietly calling, "Hey, get up, pigeon. I think you're suffocating him."

"Hmm?" I opened my eyes a little, but the light hurt. "What time is it?"

"About 2 am. Come on, I'm gonna take you to bed."

I took his hand, and he pulled me to my feet. My head pounded, and I staggered against him. "I'm not looking forward to those stairs," I slurred. "I don't know if I can get my feet to work quite right."

"My room's closer. Do you want to just sleep in my bed?"

"What about you?"

"I've got one of the biggest beds on this boat. There's plenty of room for the both of us."

Not really thinking about what I was agreeing to, or what its consequences might be, I said, "Ok."

He basically had to carry me up most of the stairs, but when we got into his room, he gently put me down on the bed. I clumsily took my shoes off, then climbed under the covers. His bed really was huge. It was the only one I'd seen beside Quentin's that wasn't a bunk bed. His room was a lot bigger than the others too. I made a mental note to ask about it later if I remembered. I'm pretty sure I had fallen back asleep before he had even shut the door.

The next time I woke up, I was extremely disoriented. This was not my room. Then, I remembered. Gavin had come and got me off the floor and took me...where? I looked around. Then, I realized there was someone else in the bed with me. I glanced over my shoulder and had to hold in a loud gasp when I saw it was Gavin. I panicked for a moment, but then I realized we both still had clothes on and he was at least an entire foot and a half away from me. Slowly, the memories came back. I agreed to just go to his room because it was closer. Right. I agreed to this, and he didn't try anything. It's ok.

The station was quietly playing over the speaker in his room and Simon was on. He didn't sound quite up to par, as was to be expected with all the revelries that had occurred. My head felt like it was going to explode one minute and then implode the next. Finally, I just groaned, and Gavin stirred. "Hey," he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Hi," I replied. I tried to sit up, smacked a hand to my head, and just fell back down to the pillow. "Shit."

"Yeah, you definitely indulged yesterday."

"I definitely don't need you to tell me that."

He chuckled. "Do you want a cup of tea or something?"

"Maybe aspirin. And I guess I need something to take it with, so tea too."

"Aye aye, milady," he responded with a salute to the ceiling. He scuttled off the foot of the bed and left.

I rolled onto my side and stared at the door that he had exited through. What was going on? I had just slept in his bed...with him. Did this mean something to him? More importantly, did it mean the same thing to him as it did to me? More important than even that, what the hell did it mean to me? Before I could come up with any kind of conclusion, he returned, a tray in hand. On it was two cups of tea and a bottle of aspirin. I made myself sit up and take the cup and bottle. "Thanks."

"My pleasure, pigeon."

I sat Indian style so he could sit on the side of the bed at the foot. "I take it you didn't drink quite as much as I did," I said while popping a couple pills in my mouth and taking a sip of my tea.

"Not nearly as much." He took a drink, then looked at me out of the corner of his eye. "One might've thought you were trying to escape the celebration as much as join it."

"Is this your way of asking me if I'm in love with Simon?"

He shrugged. "Well..."

I just nodded and replied, "Believe me, I'm not."

"You two just seem very close."

"We're best friends. That's all. And we're comfortable enough around each other to do some of the things we do. For example, I probably wouldn't have thought twice about sleeping in his bed while sober, let alone drunk."

"I see. And now that you've slept in my bed, drunk as you were when you made the decision to do so, do you regret it?"

I looked up at him, trying and failing to gauge exactly where he was going with all of this. "No, I don't," I finally answered. "I'd like to think we're close enough friends for this to pass off like it would if it were Simon."

"Fair enough."

"Why? Do you regret offering to let me sleep in here?"

"Not at all. Don't take this the wrong way, but you're not a bad bed partner."

I snorted. "Oh, no, I'm not going to take that wrong at all."

"You know what I mean!" he said with a laugh. "You don't move at all. I didn't even know you were there."

"Well, I'm glad I didn't disturb you, and thank you for taking care of me. Where would I be without guys like you and the Count and Simon? Always watching my back."

He smiled. "There's something about a lone woman on a ship full of men and a lesbian that makes any self-respecting man want to protect her."

"Charming," I said with a soft smile. He was looking back at me with far too cute a grin for me to maintain my calm, so I abruptly said, "I'm going to go back to my room." I put my cup down on the side table and threw my feet over the side of the bed, looking for my shoes. I found them and put them on. As I stood, my head protested again, but I fought through it. "Thanks again, Gavin. See ya later."

As I left, he said, "See ya, Chels."


	7. Chapter 7

The day before the wedding, Simon pulled me aside after my shift. "Chelsea, I want to talk to you about something."

"Anything! What is it?"

"This is going to sound weird."

"Simon, everything you say sounds weird because you're Irish." He rolled his eyes and smiled. "Really, though. What is it?"

"I want you to be my best man."

"I'd be honored! If that's really what you want..."

"I want nothing more." I grinned and clapped excitedly.

"What you clapping about?" the Count asked as he entered.

"I'm going to be Simon's best man!"

He paused, looked over at us, noted my excited smile and Simon's 'I dare you to say something' expression, and said, "Whatever floats your boat, Swafford."

I turned back to Simon. "So! Is there any last minute things you need to do?"

"I think I've got it all covered," he replied.

"Simon, I'm so happy!"

He smiled. "You know, you really are a good friend. Do you know it?"

I hugged him. "I can only hope I am. If you need anything at all, you let me know, yeah?"

"Of course." He kissed my cheek. "Wonderful girl, you are."

In the morning, I was getting dressed and listening to Simon's show. John made a news flash that said, "Top news of the day: at precisely 2:45 this afternoon, Sir Simon Swafford, king of the charts, marries the prettiest girl who ever lived."

Simon came in with, "I just want you to know, I want to assure listeners, that this doesn't mean I have any less love for you. I'll still be here every morning. The only difference will be, I'll be happy!" I was in the middle of pulling on pants (as I had chosen to adorn those most days to avoid peeking eyes and such, besides, I was best _man_), and this statement sent me into a fit of laughter which resulted in a complete wipe out onto my bed.

Come 2:30 or so, excitement was in the air. Everyone was simply buzzing. We all lined up on the deck of the ship and awaited the transport boat that would be carrying Simon's bride to her wedding. Quentin would be performing the ceremony, which I was looking forward to immensely. "Oh my god, here she comes," Simon suddenly said, grabbing my hand. Everyone else went to the side to wave and greet her even though the boat was a still pretty far out.

I stared at our joined hands for a moment, then said, "Big day."

"Big day!" he agreed. I gently pulled loose from his grip and walked forward myself. "Oh, I shouldn't look!" he cried, then covered his eyes. I glanced back and caught him peeking, then just smiled.

When I reached the side of the ship, I got beside the Count, and suddenly got inspired. I figured Elenore was close enough to here, so I broke out into song. "_Elenore, gee, I think you're swell, and you really do him well. You're his pride and joy etc. Elenore can I take the time to ask you to speak your mind? Tell me that you love him better!_" True, I had altered the lyrics a little bit, but everyone seemed to like this idea and joined in. She was just smiling from ear to ear and waving enthusiastically. I had to admit, she was very very pretty. Blonde, slender, and some very beautiful eyes. As bad as I felt after the thought occurred to me, I actually wondered how Simon had caught her attention.

She came aboard, and we immediately continued into the ceremony on the highest level of the deck which had been decorated. I stood to Simon's right, and Elenore's bridesmaids stood to her left. Quentin, all dressed in his fancy suit, began. "Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, apparently, which is, um...scary...to witness the wedding of this man and this...total goddess." The crowd gave a few whistles, and I nearly lost it when Simon did it too. Elenore smiled up at him. "Jesus Christ alone knows why she's marrying him."

"Ha! Good one," Simon laughed. I was still fighting giggles, and I was smiling so largely it hurt.

"But, love is, as the Everly Brothers so wisely observed, strange."

Off to my right, Angus and Harold were managing a broadcast machine, and Angus was giving his commentary of the wedding to the thousands of listeners. "And the bride is blushing now as the groom gazes into her eyes. You can almost see Cupid fluttering his wings about their heads. _Flip flip flip flip_. _Caw caw_! No, wait! That was a seagull."

"Oh, shut up, Nutsford," I said.

Quentin turned to me, smiling. "Best man, have you got the rings?"

"I have," I replied, pulling them out of my pocket.

I handed them to Simon, still unable to dispel the smile on my face even though I knew that if I kept it up much longer, my face was going to be stuck like that. "Thanks, Chels," Simon said.

As they exchanged rings, Quentin quietly said, "There you are." When they had finished, he announced, "I now declare you man and stunning wife!"

I threw my hands into the air and cried, "YYYYYYAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY!" Everyone in the crowd stood and clapped and cheered and threw confetti. I just could not contain myself. I jumped up and down and danced and started singing my version of _Elenore_ again. Everyone joined with me again later that evening as we accompanied the newlyweds down to Simon's room.

We lined the hallway and finally got to the end as Simon carried her in."_Elenore, gee, I think you're __swell, ahhaaaaa. Elenore, gee, I think you're swell, ahhaaaaaa. Ahhhhh._"

As we ended and Simon closed the door, Angus cried, "Now, where's those bridesmaids?"

"Really, Ang?" I scoffed, but I just burst into laughter. There was absolutely nothing that could take away my good mood.

I think it's important to mention that ever since the night of Simon's engagement, I had frequently spent the night in Gavin's room. It was almost an every night thing. I would just wind up in there late, and I would wind up falling asleep. It rather shocked me that no one had said anything about it yet, but I just went on with it. The night of Simon's wedding was no different. After we all devoured the cake in the kitchen, I announced I was going to bed. Gavin concurred, and we left together. We talked all the way to the quarters, and instinctively, I simply walked right into his room so we could keep up our conversation. Then, I ended up passing out on his bed some time after 1 am.

I woke up at about 6:30 and decided I wanted something to eat, so I crept out of the bed, making sure I didn't wake Gavin, and silently went out the door. I made my way to the kitchen, pondering the whole way if I really wanted food or just more sleep. As I went in, I saw Simon making a couple cups of tea. "Hey!" I said.

He turned and gave me a quick smile. "Hey."

"How did it go?" I asked sleepily.

"It...um...I think it'll get better. You know, it was...she was tired. I was little over-excited. It was...if I'm honest, it was a bit quick sticks. But, uh...we don't want to blow it all on one night, do we?"

"Of course not!" I replied, shaking my head.

"No! We've got all the time in the world." He collected his tea cups and walked past me saying, "Round two."

"Hey, good luck, Simon!" I called after him.

Once he was gone, I turned to the cabinets. It wasn't long before I finally decided on just going back to bed, so I lumbered back to Gavin's room which I disconcertingly realized was adjacent to Simon's. I didn't want to hear anything, but I didn't feel like ascending the stairs to my room either. I concluded that the walls were too thick, and I'd be fine here. I opened the door just as Gavin was climbing out of bed. "Where you been?" he asked.

"Kitchen."

"What are you doing?"

"Going back to bed."

"Why not go to your own room if you're already up?" he chuckled.

"Yours was closer. Besides, my shoes are still in here."

"I could've brought them to you."

I flopped face down on the bed. "Whatever. I'm going back to sleep," I told the pillow. He grinned and went into the bathroom.

It was right then that I discovered that the walls did not keep sound in one room very well. "Simon, I have some news," I heard through the wall at my head.

"No. Oh, no. Don't tell me. You're pregnant already, are you? I knew this was going to happen. The Swaffords have always had strong stuff."

"No! No, it's not that."

"Oh! Phew! Not that I don't want babies. I do. I want a dozen! You'll be in pieces by the time I'm done, but, you know, I thought that we might have a few more years of reckless shagging before settling down in Baby Boulevard."

There was a pause, then she said, "Simon, I'm so in love."

"Of course you are."

"Gavin is just...so fantastic." This was the first alarm that made me raise my head off the pillow and look at the wall.

"Oh, isn't he? Isn't he just the greatest?"

"Yes, he is. I guess that's why I'm in love with him." This was the second alarm that made me sit up a little more and press my ear against the wall to make sure I heard everything correctly.

"Koala bear, when you that you're in love with him...there might be...translation...what, what do you mean by that?"

"Well...I met him about a week before I met you, and I fell in love with him. But he said the only way I could be on the boat was if we got married, and he wouldn't do that for...obvious reasons. So, I suggested that I could just marry another DJ. That way I could still be on the boat. He said it was a mad idea, but...then I met you! I saw you sitting all alone in that pub, and I just leapt at the chance. Now, well, here I am! And if it's ok with you, I'll be moving in with Gavin tonight." The bitch sounded like she had just won a contest or something. "Aww. Thanks for being so understanding."

"But, I don't understand!" Simon said. There was a terrible sound in his voice that just broke my heart.

"But I just explained. See, I met Gavin, and we fell in love, and..."

"Uh huh! I get that! I get the ins and outs of it. What I don't understand is how you could be so cruel! I mean, we were _just_ married, if you read the...yesterday...and we were supposed to spend the rest of our lives together."

"Well...we will! In a way we will! It's just...I'll be having sex with Gavin instead of you every night, but we'll still be friends. If you need me, I'll be right next door." At this point, she pat the wall very near to my head and I yanked it back.

"Having sex," Simon said so quietly I almost couldn't hear.

"Hopefully. Um...you might hear us."

"That would be nice." Simon was almost in tears, and fire was running through my veins.

I leapt off the bed snarling, "No fucking way."

Gavin happened to come out of the bathroom in time to hear me say that, and he asked, "What's your problem?"

"I will deal with you in a minute!" I snapped. I yanked open the door, then barged into Simon's room roaring, "YOU FUCKING WHORE!" She jumped up, protesting my name calling, and I punched her square in the jaw. She fell back on the bed, and Gavin, who had followed me, grabbed my arm. "GET THE FUCK OFF ME!" I screamed, yanking my arm from his grip. "YOU!" I started forward towards Elenore again, but Simon got up and got between us.

"Chelsea, stop," he said.

"NO!" I screeched at him. "NO! I won't let her do this to you!"

"Maybe you should listen to Simon," Gavin said.

I whipped around and punched him in the face too. "DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD TO ME!"

He rubbed his jaw and angrily grabbed my wrist. "Listen here, you crazy bitch..."

"Gavin, don't call her that!" Simon yelled.

By this point, just about everyone had gathered outside the door. "Get your fucking hands off her!" the Count cried, shoving Gavin out of the way to get to me.

Quentin was yelling, "Everybody, calm down! Calm down! Count, get Chelsea out of here! She's going to murder someone! Simon, what's going on? Gavin, let go of Chelsea! Jesus Christ, you're all mad!"

The Count managed to get control over me and yanked my from the room and out onto the deck. Once we were there, I collapsed and started bawling. "Did he hurt you?" Count demanded. Unable to speak, I shook my head. "What the fuck is going on?"

I gulped, trying to regain control over my vocals, and I answered, "Elenore...loves...Gavin."

"...what?"

"She only...married Simon so...she could be with...Gavin."

"And Gavin knew this?"

"I..think so."

"I don't believe it! That bastard is going to fucking get it."

I lapsed back into sobs. I was crying because I was mad as hell, but I was hurting too. Gavin knew all of this and he said nothing. Not a word. He betrayed me and he betrayed my best friend all in one fatal swoop. And it hurt.

I climbed up to the higher deck to be alone. It was about two hours later when the transport boat appeared and took Elenore away. Over the radio, John said, "Official sources were sad to announce the separation of Simon Swafford and his wife, Elenore, after...17 hours of marriage. It is understood that the split is due to musical differences."

"Musical differences," I half-heartedly chuckled. "Nice cover story, John."

Just then, Carl popped his head into view from below. "Hey, Chelsea, we're having a conference down in the living room. Thought you might like to be present."

"Are we killing Gavin?"

"No."

"Then I don't care to go."

"We are, however, going to grill him."

I sat there a moment, then sighed, "Oh, alright. As long as we do it slowly and with the most pain possible."

I got up and followed him down to the living room. Everyone was gathered on one side of the table while Gavin sat calmly on the other side, smoking a cigarette. As we entered, all eyes flicked to us momentarily, but then went back to glaring at Gavin. He didn't even acknowledge that we'd shown up. Simon sat directly across from him, so I went and stood behind Simon and put a hand on his shoulder. He reached back and pat it gently. Finally, the Count asked, "So, what do you have to say, bastard?"

"Oh, come on. Be fair," Gavin replied. "I didn't ask her to do it. I said to her it's absolutely not on, and now she's gone. She's left the boat. She's not coming back. I honestly can't see what I've done wrong." I rolled my eyes, fighting tears again. "What can I say? It's the dark side of rock n' roll."

Quietly, Simon spoke up. "Can you tell me one thing? Before she left this morning...did you...you didn't...you know..."

Gavin looked down at the table a moment, and then, I suddenly found him looking at me. I raised an eyebrow, making sure to keep my face as cold as possible. He looked back down again, then at Simon. "Just one little pop."

We all exclaimed some measure of disgust. Mine was along the lines of, "Un-fucking-believable!"

"It was the least I could do after all the trouble the lovely girl had gone to."

Simon, without a word, stood and started to leave. I called his name, but when he didn't reply, I said, "Carl, go after him please." Carl complied. I couldn't bring myself to look at Gavin, even though I could feel his eyes on me. I was afraid I really was going to kill him.

"Mister, have you ever heard of the Vietnam War?" the Count asked.

"I have," Gavin replied.

"Well, that holocaust is simply a playground skirmish compared to what you're about to experience." Gavin actually started laughing a little. I gripped the back of what had previously been Simon's chair, digging my nails into the wood. "I'm declaring war. W-A-R. I'm gonna tear you apart."

With that, our conference concluded. People started filing out, and yet again Gavin's gaze fell on me. I finally made myself meet it, scowling darkly. There was a very weird look on his face. I wanted to say it was a sort of desperate look. Well, if he wanted understanding, he wasn't going to get it from me. At least not in the foreseeable future. I shook my head and left.

I went towards Simon's room and found Carl outside, talking to the door. "Simon, let me in!"

I went to him and murmured, "Let me try." He nodded. I knocked on the door. "Simon, it's Chelsea. Can I come in?"

After a moment, the reply came. "Yeah."

I smiled a bit at Carl, then pushed the door open and let myself in. I closed it behind me, then turned. Simon was sitting on his bed, looking out the window. Tears were rolling down his face, and it just broke my heart. I crossed the floor and sat down on the bed with him. "Can I do anything?" I asked. He shook his head. "Simon, I'm so sorry."

"What for? It's not like you knew. Not like Gavin. And then he...he..." He broke down and could go no further.

I scooted closer and pulled him into my arms, letting him just cry on my shoulder. "I know. That was a bitch move. And that was the understatement of the year. The Count's going to kick his ass though."

As if I had cued him in, the Count came over the radio. "My dear listeners, you might begin to notice a certain cooling between his royal highness, the Count of Cool, and a guy called Gavin. Well, I am eager to show the world that he is a coward, so I'm suggesting something that's pretty big where I come from, and it's a game called Chicken. _Brawk!_ _Brawk! _This will be taking place tomorrow at high noon. We'll see who's king of this castle!"

"There. See? Now they both get to climb up high objects and probably kill themselves while the Count proves his point." This actually brought a smile to Simon's face.

He leaned back and wiped the tears off his cheeks and out of his eyes. "I look forward to it." I smiled a little, but it didn't last. "You're certainly forced to choose a side, now, aren't you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"One of your best friends betrays your other best friend. Then he and your protector are going head to head in a potentially dangerous ego match."

"It's not like it's a hard decision. You and the Count all the way."

He nodded and smiled. "That was a heck of a punch you landed on Gavin and Elenore both this morning."

I grinned and looked down. "I was angry."

"Indeed you were. I was kind of worried you might punch me if I got too close."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I would've."

"I wasn't willing to risk it." He smiled and affectionately put his hand on the side of my face. "You're a really good friend. Do you know it?"

"I try."

That night, I was up on deck at the nose of the ship, relishing the feel of the breeze on my face when I heard those signature boots approaching. "What do you want, Gavin?" I asked tensely before he had even stopped.

"I want to talk to you."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"I beg to differ. I want to explain."

"Explain what?" I cried, spinning around. "Why you didn't mention the fact that you knew Elenore was only marrying Simon for you? Why you went off and fucked her right after all this information came out? WHAT?"

"Yeah, it wasn't the most brilliant moment of my life, but I regret it!"

"That doesn't fix anything!"

"Why not?"

"Because that hurt like nothing ever has before, and I can't just forgive you!" I screamed. He didn't respond. Finally, softer, I added, "Simon is my best friend, and you hurt him even worse than you hurt me. What else can I do?"

He looked down, then looked back at me through his bangs. It was remarkably cute, but I think he knew that. "I just want to say I'm sorry. You forgive me in your own time." He then turned and headed back towards the door to go below.

I just couldn't stay silent. "Gavin!"

He looked back. "Pigeon?"

"Be careful tomorrow, yeah?"

He nodded. "Ok."


	8. Chapter 8

The next day, as the clock struck noon, we all gathered outside for the Chicken match. The Count and Gavin were to climb as high as they could up the main mast...and I was terrified for both of them. I had thought long and hard about Gavin's statement from the night before. 'You forgive me in your own time.' He was willing to wait, and that made me not want to prolong the rift in our relationship. However, I couldn't, in good conscience, just forgive him on the spot. Not after what he'd done. So, I would side with the Count during this ordeal, and I would beg God for the safety of them both.

Dave equipped a bull horn to announce the event. He said, "Alright! Whoever climbs furthest is the victor! May the best man win, and the biggest chicken lose!" I had decided to stand rather alone so that no one would hear if I happened to let out a tiny cheer for Gavin as well as the Count. "Are we ready? Then let the ascent commence!"

"Come on, Count!" a few of the others called.

The climbing went without incident for quite a while. Then, when they were probably about 200 feet or more off the deck, the Count slipped and nearly fell. He hung on with sheer upper body strength. "Gavin, don't let him fall!" I cried.

"Help him!" Carl roared.

Gavin stopped and waited for the Count to regain his footing. They appeared to have a conversation, then they started climbing again. "What are they doing?" Harold exclaimed nervously.

"You're idiots!" I yelled up at them, hoping they heard. "This is stupid!"

Even Dave got on the bull horn and said, "You guys, don't be stupid! Enough is enough! You've proved your point!"

"Quentin, do something!" I said.

Quentin just shrugged at me and replied, "All he did was have sex with someone's wife...sorry, Simon. Nothing personal." Simon and I both glared at him.

"If you fall, you will die!" Dave continued. "Oh my god."

By this point, Gavin and the Count had both reached the highest point possible on the mast. Both of them paused, took a breather, and then slowly, both of their heads turned to look at their respective beams. Then, much to our horror, they started making their way out to the very tips. "GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE, YOU SILLY BASTARDS! THIS IS MADNESS!" I shouted.

"The one who stops climbing is the winner!" Angus said.

They got out to the edge, and suddenly, their shouted conversation could be heard. "What do you say now?" the Count asked.

"I say, I know a chicken when I see one, and I'm looking at one right now!" Gavin answered.

"That didn't help the situation!" I cried.

"Adios, amigo!" Gavin called before promptly jumping off.

"GAVIN!" I shrieked. He hit the water and we all ran to his side of the boat.

"Man overboard!" Angus said.

"Is he alright?" Felicity asked.

From above, the Count could be heard complaining, "I don't even like Simon! Cry baby! CRY BABY!" Then, he too jumped off with a yell of, "TUTTI FRUITY!"

I screamed and covered my face with my hands. They were both dead. I was sure of it. Then, I heard Gavin's groans as he was yanked back on board, and the Count's gasps from out in the water. I couldn't make up my mind who to go to, so I stayed put. Finally, when they were both hauled back on the ship, we assessed the damage. Gavin had a broken leg, and the Count had broken his arm and two fingers. Dave, who, ironically, actually proved himself somewhat useful as a doctor, managed to set the bones. Felicity was getting the Count's arm in a sling and I asked her if I could help in any way. "Yeah, go wrap Gavin's leg up. Make sure it's tight, ok?"

"Yeah...alright." I took the wrap from her, and moved to where Gavin sat with his leg propped up.

"You here to be my nurse?" he asked playfully.

I smiled a little. "Yeah. Pull your pant leg up." He did so, and I sat down to work. As I gently wrapped the stuff around his leg from his knee down, I said, "You're an idiot. You know?"

He smiled. "I know. Was that you screaming my name like a girl?"

"Yeah," I chuckled. "Unfortunate part of being a girl, when you scream in terror you tend to sound like one."

"Were you really terrified?"

"I was. I thought you were dead. Both of you."

"Naw. Not me. I'm gonna live forever."

"Cocky son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"I've never known a better one." We fell silent for a little while, and as I neared his ankle, he asked, "Have you forgiven me yet?"

I paused, unsure of what to do or say. "I'm getting there," I eventually replied.

"I really am sorry, Chelsea. It was stupid of me."

"You don't have to tell me twice. I'm just concerned about how Simon will feel. I don't want to forgive you too quickly. For his sake."

"I get it. I do."

"Good. So, are you and Count going to make up over the radio?"

"I think that's the plan. Your lordship?"

"What?" Count answered.

"The lady wants to know if we're going to call truce on the radio."

"I believe so...if you're up to it."

"Oh, I'm up to it." They shared a smile, and I could almost feel myself getting put back together a little. No longer would I be torn every which way imaginable.

Once they were bandaged up, we got them down to the studios to do their bit. Simon and I sat in the outer room, doing inventory on the records. The Count began it. "Ladies and gentlemen of Great Britain, Abraham Lincoln once said it is the measure of a man when he can admit when he's wrong. And I have been catastrophically wrong." He looked over into the adjacent studio and gave Gavin a salute which Gavin returned before speaking.

"I would also like to take this opportunity to apologize to a dear friend of mine...Simon." He looked out to where we were sitting and did the kiss his fingertips thing again. I looked at him, then looked at Simon. With a small and almost reluctant smile, Simon nodded in acceptance. The smile that split my face was completely unavoidable. Gavin smiled too, and finished, "Finally, everything on board is going to be just...fine." He then started a record, gave the Count a nod, and turned to hobble out of the studio.

Simon got up to get some more records, and I took that moment to get Gavin's attention. I mouthed, "Thank you," and he gave me a smile and a nod. I smiled back as he left.

Simon came back and read off the title of the record so I could make sure it was on the list. As I scribbled it down, he said, "It's alright."

"What you talking about?"

"It's fine that you forgave Gavin so quickly. You obviously can't stay mad at him. Hell, I can't even stay mad at him..and I'm not head over heels in love with him."

I froze, but quickly recovered. "What are you going on about?"

"You know full well what I'm going on about. Gavin doesn't know you well enough to see the way you look at him. The way you talk to him. I'm your best friend, Chels. I know these things."

I shook my head. "You've only known me about three more months than he has."

"It was long enough. I'm telling you. Maybe you haven't even realized it yet, but when you do, I'm going to say I told you so."

"I am _not_ in love with Gavin Cavanaugh! I don't even know what love is really."

"Love is whatever you feel when you look at Gavin."

"Just shut up and read off the next record. You don't know what you're talking about."

"Just because my wife left me after 17 hours, it doesn't mean I don't know what I'm talking about when it comes to relationships."

I winced. "Simon, that's not what I meant."

"I know what you meant. I'm just saying, you're in love with him. The sooner you realize that the better off you'll be."

I smiled and looked up at him. "Really?"

He returned the smile. "Absolutely."


	9. Chapter 9

Spring turned into summer and life on Radio Rock fell into a comfortable routine. There was always music, there was always food, and there was always time for fun. We took to playing some football, or soccer as the Count insisted upon calling it, every Wednesday afternoon. I'm sure it goes without saying that we lost many a ball over the side of the ship. The day we played with our last ball, Kevin was given first kick off. It surprised no one when it went flying off into the wild blue yonder. I think we all about tackled the poor guy, so it quickly went from football to rugby.

I was surprised to find out that Angus actually couldn't swim. Upon hearing this, I said, "But, Ang, you live on a boat."

"Oh, I wasn't aware of that. Thank you, Chelsea," he replied, rolling his eyes.

He walked away and the Count came up behind me. "I have an idea. You grab his feet, and I'll grab his arms, and we're going to throw him in the water. That's how we teach people to swim back home."

Just considering the humorous side of this, I agreed. We ran up and tackled Angus, grabbing our respective appendages. Then we carried him over to the side of the boat. It was then that I had some doubts. "You're sure throwing him in is the best way for him to learn how to swim?"

"Absolutely," the Count replied.

"Ok."

We launched him over the side and he screamed all the way down. While we watched him splutter and splash, the Count said, "Although, on second thought, that might just be for kids."

"I can't touch the bottom!" Angus cried unhappily.

"Yeah, I think if you throw in an adult...it doesn't work that way."

"Goodbye!" Angus lamented before sinking a bit.

"Good lord," Quentin sighed, coming to see what all the fuss was about. He threw Angus a life-line, then left it up to us to pull him up. We just held onto the rope, letting Angus stay in the water for a bit.

One night, about a week later, we all gathered for a powwow topside to just talk and play some random games. I plopped down beside Felicity, and I had to hide a happy grin when Gavin sat himself on my other side. We leaned against each others back, but angled into the circle well enough to still be a part of the group. "Deprivation!" Dave announced as our first game. There was a general consensus on this game, so it began. "You first, Count."

"Ok. Hmm...oh, I've got you limeys beat. I have never had a sexual dream featuring a member of the royal family. Raise your hand if you have been equally deprived."

I was the only one who raised my hand, while on both sides of me, there were admiring murmurs of, "Princess Margaret."

I gave Gavin a funny look, then explained, "There are no good looking men in the royal family. I mean, really, have you seen Prince Charles?"

"Fair enough," the Count said. "Still! Six points for me!"

We applauded him. "Alright, your turn, Felicity," Dave said.

"I have never had sex with a man," she said.

"Risky one."

"Yeah...I didn't...I don't know."

Again, I raised my hand, and this seemed to draw every last eye to me. "What? Is being a virgin bad?"

"Well, no," Dave said slowly. "It's just, we all sort of assumed..."

"So, un-assume. I've never had sex with anyone. Let alone a man." It almost went unnoticed that Angus had not raised his hand until my eyes fell on him. "Oh god. No way!"

"Aah. Damn it!" he said.

"Do tell!" Felicity implored.

"Oh, ok. It was at school, obviously. Who hasn't?"

"Um, me!" Gavin replied.

"Alright. Besides you guys. It was just once...and his name was Jackman."

I just leaned my head on Gavin's shoulder and busted out laughing. "Of course his name was Jackman," Count said.

"Ok, you can laugh," Angus said, "but actually, he was something of a god."

I picked my head up and replied, "You know, I bet he was!"

"I was curious," he finished.

"Sadly, Felicity," Dave said, "you only get one point. One point for Felicity. Your turn, Chels."

I thought for a moment, then stated, "I have never kissed a blonde. I know I've got Gavin and the Count both beat. Up with your hands if you've never kissed a blonde." Carl and Felicity were the only ones with their hands up. "Oh, I'm sorry, Carl," I said. "I suppose that horse that licked you on the face was a brunette?" Everyone started laughing and he smiled.

"Actually, it was a red-head," he answered.

"Does it count if it was your mum?" Kevin asked abruptly.

While the others guffawed, I replied, "Yes, that counts, Kev."

"Then, I get to put my hand down!" Carl announced.

"Six points for Chelsea!" Dave said. "Well done. Now, mister Gavin Cavanaugh."

"Right," Gavin began. "Bit of a strange one, this. I have never been on a date with a girl..." We all immediately opposed this statement. "Wait, wait! And after sex thought she wouldn't notice if I let go a bit of...wind." Not entirely certain I wanted to know where this was going, I turned a little more so I could stare at him. "Did so, and realized that it wasn't wind...it was diarrhea." My jaw just dropped. "So, I've never been in bed with the girl of my dreams with poo all over the sheets behind me. Raise your hands if you've never done that."

Wanting to laugh and puke all at the same time, I stuck my hand in the air. Others followed suit. All except... "David!" Angus exclaimed. My hand that was in the air slowly descended to cover my mouth in shock.

"You...bastard," Dave muttered.

"What? I didn't tell anyone!" Gavin retorted, laughing.

Carl said, "You did, though?"

"Yeah."

"What did you do?"

"Well, I told her that my wife would be home in five minutes, so she left," Dave replied.

"So, you got away with it."

"Eh...it's a bit of a grey area."

"Tell 'em," Gavin prodded.

"The problem being that my wife then came home..." We all exploded into laughter, "...and I got in a lot of trouble for...pooing in the bed at four o'clock in the afternoon."

"OH MY GOD!" I cried, laughing so hard it was difficult to speak at all.

Later, as everyone retired to bed, Gavin stopped me by the door to go below. "Were you planning on spending the night in my room?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Go get a blanket and some pillows. I want to show you something."

I frowned a bit, but nodded. "Ok." I went down to my room and grabbed the comforter off my bed and my favorite pillow, then I ran to Gavin's room and grabbed his pillow, then lugged it all back outside. I was surprised to find that all the lights were off. Every single one. And I couldn't see shit. "Gavin?" I called into the black. I jumped a little when his hand touched my shoulder.

"Here I am. Sorry."

"What are we doing?"

"Come on." He took my hand and tentatively led the way through the dark to the stairs that led up to the highest deck. "Mind that broken one. Up we go, come on."

All the way up we went, me getting more and more baffled. "Gavin, really, what are we doing?"

"Just shut up and play along." I rolled my eyes and assented. Finally, we got to the top. "Give me the pillows." I handed them to him, and he positioned them against one of the masts, then plopped down and laid his head on his pillow. "Do join me," he said when I remained standing.

"Why?"

"I want to bloody show you something. Lie down!" I scowled and did so, but kept my eye on him, unsure of what he was planning. "Now, look that way." He pointed up at the sky.

Slowly, I did as he asked. When I saw, I gasped. It seemed that every star in the universe was visible. Orion, Draco, Big Dipper. "It's beautiful!"

"Told you, but no, you were too busy worrying about what I was trying to do."

"Wow," I breathed. "How did you come about discovering this?"

"I got bored one night and came out here. I switched off the lights, and that's what I found. Thought you might appreciate it."

"It's wonderful, Gavin. Thanks."

"Yeah. My pleasure, pigeon."

I spread the comforter out, asking, "You want some?"

"If you wouldn't mind."

"Here." I gave him some of the cover, still maintaining a bit of distance between us. "Are we spending the night out here?"

"Probably, considering the way you fall asleep wherever you want."

"Ok," I yawned.

After a while, Gavin quietly asked, "Would you do this with Simon?"

"Absolutely. Why?"

"Nevermind. So, you've really never kissed a blonde?"

"Not once."

"Have you kissed anyone?"

"Well, yeah. They all had dark hair though."

"When was your first?"

"I was still in school. I was 17. It was a guy named Eric. He was a year ahead of me, and we were at a party. Spin the bottle." My speech was choppy. This was not something I really wanted to be talking about with him.

"Did it turn into anything?"

"No. We did talk more afterwards though. I just got a friend out of it. What about you?"

"Hmm. I was 17, and her name was Diane. We were both at a football game. At the end, when our team won, I just grabbed her and kissed her. She didn't object."

"It seems like no woman can," I muttered.

He looked over at me. "And what about you? You haven't kissed me."

"No...I guess that's true," I sighed. Of course, I was thinking that it didn't mean I didn't want to. "It's freezing out here. I'm scooting closer." I scooted a lot closer than I had originally intended. It was almost like my heart was taking over, doing something my brain didn't approve of. He had his hands behind his head, so I put my head on his chest and just kind of curled into his left side.

He slowly looked down at me, then back at the sky. "Ok," he said plainly.

I fell asleep right there, my head on Gavin's chest and all. We slept up there the entire night with Midnight Mark and Smooth Bob providing a soundtrack. It was about an hour into Simon's shift when I woke up. The sun was still new, so it was still cold out. As I blinked myself a little more awake, I realized that Gavin's left arm was draped around me. I stared at it for a while, attempting to process all the emotions it evoked. It was like a dream come true, honestly, but in my mind it was also a line I had hoped not to cross. I wasn't going to let Gavin this close. He wasn't the kind of guy that stuck around, and I didn't want to get hurt. As gently as I could, I slid out from beneath it, slightly lamenting the loss. I left him there, dead asleep, and went down to the studio. Simon waved at me. I returned it, then rubbed my eyes and sat down outside, waiting for him to get done.

At 8, Angus came down to relieve him. "Morning, Chels," he said when he entered.

"Hey, Nutsford."

"You alright?"

"Fine. You?"

"Wonderful."

"Great."

He and Simon switched out, and Simon came over to me. "Hey, you," he said.

"Hi," I answered, smiling up at him.

He sat down beside me and asked, "What's going on? You're never up this early."

"Well...Gavin and I slept on deck last night, and I woke up early."

"Oh...where's he at?"

"Still out there. He was still asleep."

He seemed to be struggling with something, and finally, he blurted, "I have to ask. Why were you out there?"

"He wanted to show me the stars when you turn off all the lights," I explained. "I fell asleep...on his chest...so we just stayed." A bit of a grin started growing on his face. "No, Simon. You cannot say I told you so. I have not said anything about being in love with him."

"You don't have to," he replied shortly. "I know."

"No, you don't know! I don't want a relationship with him. He obviously can't keep a steady one. He screws 'em and leaves 'em. Not me."

Simon shrugged. "You never know. You might just be the girl he changes for."

I nodded. "Oh, yeah. Cliché as hell."

"But so romantic!" he swooned, leaning against me. I laughed and shoved him away.

Later though, I was watching Gavin's broadcast, and Simon's words began to haunt me. Every time Gavin's eyes flicked to me behind those sunglasses, I gave him a small smile and wondered, would I...no...could I change him?


	10. Chapter 10

Before too long, my 26th birthday crept up on me. I awoke to exceedingly loud whispers right outside my door. Someone I'm pretty sure was Simon hissed, "Shut up, guys!"

"Why? She needs to get up anyway," the Count replied at his normal volume.

"SHHH!" a bunch of people responded.

I rolled my eyes and called, "If you're trying to surprise me...you've failed." Everything outside the door fell silent. "Well, come in!" Slowly, the door creaked open, revealing everyone's sheepish expressions. Only Gavin and Quentin were absent.

"Happy birthday!" Simon said, throwing his hands up in the air.

Everyone else kind of looked at him, then back to me. I kept a stony face as I said, "So, you woke me up just to tell me happy birthday?" They all stared at me, eyes wide. "That's so sweet!" I exclaimed, allowing a smile to break onto my face.

They all sighed in relief, then cried, "Happy birthday, Chelsea!"

I jumped up and started hugging them. "If you're all here, who's broadcasting?" I asked as I strangled Felicity in my arms.

"I am," Simon replied. "I need to get back. Come here!" I released Felicity and jumped into his arms. "Happy birthday, Chels."

"Thanks, Simon."

After he left, Carl stepped forward. "No one else really got you anything, so I kind of feel weird, but I made these for you." He handed me an envelope.

I took it from him gently and opened it. Inside were numerous photographs of me with everyone on the ship. They weren't all in every one, but I had at least one with each of them. "My god, Carl. These are wonderful!" I said, awed. "I didn't know you knew how to work that camera you fixed."

He smiled. "I figured it out. I've just been snapping, and I caught quite a few good ones of you. I thought you'd like to have them."

"Thanks, man." I hugged him again. "This is the best birthday present ever. It actually means something." I looked at the pictures for a little while longer, then said, "You all can leave now. I need to get dressed." There were some murmured apologies and chuckles as they cleared out. I sat on my bed, flipping through the pictures. They ranged from me and Simon lip syncing into the radio microphones to me and Felicity covered in flour when I tried to help her cook. The most photogenic, however, was one of me and Gavin topside. We were leaning on the rails, looking out over the water with our backs to the camera, but our heads were turned towards each other. I honestly didn't know why I liked it so much. It was just pretty.

As I made my way to the kitchen, I passed Gavin in the hall. I wasn't going to say anything to him, but I had to when he said something first. "Hey, happy birthday, pigeon."

I smiled. "Thank you, Gavin."

"I got you something." He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. I took it, and as I was unfolding it, he said, "It's a star chart. It'll help you figure out what you're looking at if you ever go out there again."

I looked up at him, beaming. "Thanks. This really means a lot."

He shrugged. "Don't mention it. Have a good day, yeah?"

"I'll try," I told him as I turned to leave.

Later that day, after my broadcast, Simon and I went up to the deck to hang out. We sat with our legs dangling off the side of the ship. Over the radio, Gavin was announcing the results of a recent poll in the country. Apparently, "...government plans to undermine us have failed spectacularly! In fact, the recent poll says that in an election, 93% of the British people would vote for the pirates rather than the government! This is why!"

He started a song, and Simon and I shared a grin. "Well, that's good news," I said.

"Yeah. Lovely news." He looked out over the water and sighed.

"You're thinking about Elenore again, aren't you?" I asked softly.

He gave me one of those smiles where it's only your lips and you don't really mean it. "I am. How did you know?"

"I can read you like a book, usually. A woodpecker book."

He snorted. "Is that so? Well, I shall have to be careful not to be so transparent and readable."

I smiled and waited a beat before continuing, "Do you want to talk about it?"

He didn't answer for a good while, but I just waited, knowing he would. Finally, he said, "I just keep feeling like something was wrong with me. Like that's why she wanted Gavin over me."

"Good lord, Simon, there is nothing wrong with you! There wasn't anything wrong then either! She was just a dumb bitch who somehow made herself believe that it would be ok for her to marry you but fuck around with him. The fault was hers. I honestly don't understand how she ever came to that conclusion, but she did. She just used you. There wasn't anything wrong with you."

"I just wasn't as sexy as Gavin."

"I fail to agree. You're remarkably good looking, Simon. I love your hair," I said, reaching over to play with a couple locks of it.

He smiled and let me. "You don't count. You're my best friend."

"I do so count! I'm a woman on top of being your best friend. Just, trust me on this, ok?"

"Fine," he assented.

"Really?"

"Yes!"

"Ok." He grinned at me, and I returned it. He really was very cute, and I was quite aware that I should've been trying to snare him, not Gavin, if I wanted a relationship with someone.

The next evening, I completely ignored this fact as I sat next to Gavin on the couch, passing up the chance the play checkers with Simon. Angus happily took my place there. We were just lounging about, talking to each other about all sorts of nothings, when Quentin entered. "Um, I have some rather...strange news," he said. All of our head swiveled towards him. "Our listening figures..."

"Here we go!" Count cut in happily.

Quentin gave him a look, then finished, "Have gone down."

There was a momentary pause, then we basically all said, "What?"

"Not mine," the Count stated.

"All of you," Quentin told him. "Except, of course, Gavin..." Beside me, Gavin gave the best haughty bow he could from a sitting position. "...and Simon's Super Sunday Smash show." I looked over and gave Simon a fist in the air for success. "But," Quentin continued, obviously intent upon making the day as terrible as possible, "that's only because Radio Sunshine doesn't have a chart show." It was almost absolutely silent in the room. You could've heard a cricket chirp.

"Radio what the fuck?" Count finally said, pretty much summing up everyone elses view as well.

Gavin leaned over to me and murmured, "You know he's depressed when the f word has to be in every single sentence." I bit my lip hard to keep from laughing.

The Count turned on his stool to look over at us. "Right here," he said.

"Oh, fuck, sorry," Gavin replied, rolling his eyes.

Completely ignoring this exchange, Quentin went on. "Ten days ago, a new station opened up in the North Sea. It is called Radio Sunshine." He essentially spat the name. "And it broadcasts for 18 hours a day." He let that sink in, then added, "Oh, by the way, Radio Sunshine's motto is: Who needs the Beatles when you've got Herman's Hermits?"

Both the Count and I got these extremely terrible looks on our faces. "NO!" we roared simultaneously. Quentin just gave us a bit of a grin and left. The Count and I, now thoroughly pissed off, looked at each other. He then looked at everyone else and silently motioned to follow him. Without a word, we did so.

We congregated up on the ship's bridge. The Count stood in front of us as we assembled, ready to hear his speech. "We used to have a motto in my college frat house. Don't get mad, get even."

Simon interrupted, "Our motto was semper fidelius inostra contilio." Or something along those lines.

"And what does that mean?"

"I don't know. I wish I did. Wish I did."

"Right, our motto was never wear purple with beige," Angus said.

"Ok, moving on!" Count cried exasperatedly. "Now, I believe in our old motto, and I believe that most of us have gone and forgotten exactly who we are! What are we?"

"We're pirates!" Simon answered, happy to have said the right thing.

"Exactly! We're pirates! And what do pirates do?"

"Play records!" Kevin replied with the same kind of gusto that Simon had employed. I looked at my feet and grinned.

"No. I mean actual pirates."

"Play actual records?"

"No! Fuck me!"

"I got this," Dave said. "I think actual pirates sail the sea in search of loot and treasure."

"YEAH!" Count cheered. "And to put it another way, they kick the fucking shit out of everyone on the fucking ocean who gets in their fucking way."

"Yeah!" we agreed heartily.

"And what's Radio Sunshine doing?"

"Playing records!" Kevin cried.

"FUCK!"

"No!" Simon said, waving the random carrot he had brought along. "They're getting in our...flipping way."

The Count nodded. "And what are we going to do?"

"We are going to kick the flip out of them!" he roared.

We all burst into thunderous agreement. "Lock and load, let's go!" Count announced.

We all started to clear out, and Dave said, "I think we should eat something first."

"I'm glad I had a carrot," Simon replied, taking a bite.

"I'm not just saying that 'cuz I'm fat. Even fat people need to eat."

I went up to him and pat him on the stomach. "You are absolutely right, David. Fat people do need to eat. They need to eat less."

"Ooh. That was quite good," Carl said with a wince. "She just got you, Dave." I grinned and threw my arm around Simon's waist as we departed.

We all went below and started dressing for the sabotage mission. I put on all the black clothing I had, then colored my pale face with a black marker Kevin offered me. As I put on my boots, Simon, who had half of his face inked up, asked me, "Are you sure this pen comes off?"

I stared at him, kind of touched my cheek with my fingertips, then looked down to find them very clean. "I don't know," I replied.

The Count came in inquiring, "Do we have our weapons?" We all held up the glue, knives, and other destructive equipment we'd managed to procure. "Good. Let's rock."

We all poured into the hall, headed for the deck. We rounded a corner only to have Dave inform us Quentin was coming. As we hadn't informed him of this little mission, we really didn't want to run into him. I found myself being rather roughly shoved into a room that everyone was now scrambling into. I ended up basically sitting on a sink with my legs around Mark to keep from falling. We waited until footsteps passed by the door before slowly filtering out again. I was the last one out, so, as I shut the door, I said sorry to Felicity who had actually been using this bathroom at the time we barged in. "Oh, that's alright," she said. "I enjoyed the company."

We successfully reached the deck with no more problems, and we all climbed into one of the longboats. Some misguided hierarchy went into effect and everyone but the Count and Gavin ended up having to row. Needless to say, the going was slow, but before too long...at least, before my arms fell off...the opposing ship was in sight. "There she is," Count said.

Gavin happily hissed, "This is going to be SO much fun."

We crept up the side of the ship, and Gavin quickly disposed of a guard by soundly whacking him on the head with an oar. "You'd better hope he's not dead," I told him. He just grinned and shrugged.

We then made our way down to the studio. It was remarkable how similar the layout of this ship was to our own. Granted, this one was smaller, and we all made sure to make fun of that fact in some form or fashion throughout the duration of this event. I got assigned record destruction, so I simply sat in a chair, slicing nice, clean slits on the surfaces of Radio Sunshine's record collection. At one point, Gavin sauntered up to a microphone, spit on it, then picked his nose and wiped whatever he'd managed to harvest on the mike. I paused in my slicing to stare at him, disgusted. "What?" he asked innocently.

"Look, I know we don't like these people, but that's gross. Makes me wonder what you do to my mike when I'm not looking." This terribly gleeful grin spread across his face, and I realized what I'd done. "Oh...god, don't. Gavin, really!" He just waved me off and left. I spun around, looking for Harold. When I found him, I hissed his name. He came over. "Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, Chels."

"Never let Gavin into my studio, ok? I don't care what he says, just don't let him in."

He stared at me, obviously confused, but he nodded. "Ok. Sure."

"Thank you. I love you," I said, patting his cheek. This seemed to make him forget he was confused, and he happily skipped away.

As dawn approached, we completed our tasks and met near the door to the deck. "Is everyone here?" Count whispered.

I glanced around, counting heads. There was one head, with pretty, long, dark hair not present. "We're missing Mark!" I said.

"Dawn's coming! We have to get back."

"Obviously, but we can't leave him either!" I snapped, not enjoying the fact that I had had to relinquish my sleep for the night to do this. Before the Count and I got into a rather petty fight, Mark came jogging up some stairs. "What were you doing?" I asked him, annoyed.

"The weather girl," he replied. The oohs and aahs echoed as we ran out.

Back on board our own vessel, we all sat around a table in the kitchen, eating breakfast. My eyes felt like I had an anchor hooked to each lid, not to mention the fact that my face violently stung from the scrubbing I had given it. I still had only managed to reduce the effects of the pen to grey. Gavin, who was sitting on my left, kept glancing over at me every few seconds, grinning, then looking away. Finally, during one of these glances, I wildly swung my left hand at him, and I caught him in the chin. "What was that for?" he demanded.

I stared at the wall opposite me and tensely responded, "Just...stop." He kept glaring at me from behind those damn sunglasses, but he quickly broke, grinned again, and looked away. I sighed, even allowing a very small smile to touch my lips. I poked around in my cereal bowl for a little while longer, not really interested in the soggy flakes. I nearly flipped the bowl right onto the floor when Quentin came bursting in unannounced. Angus tried to hide his similarly discolored face behind a cereal box, and Carl tried to submerge his in his actual cereal. I promptly turned my head and stuck my face into Gavin's arm, though I'm not sure why I thought that would work as his arms are much more thin than my face.

"Morning, guys," Quentin said. He stopped short, however, getting a glance of our guilty expressions...and the penned faces. "Oh." I winced, waiting for his strong disapproval, but he went on, "You should have a listen to Radio Sunshine. They've gone rather...how can one put it?...off the ball."

"Turn it on," the Count said, smiling ear to ear.

Quentin sat on my right, placing a radio down in front of me. He switched it on, and I removed my face from Gavin's upper arm to listen. A very bright voice came out of the box. "My apologies, folks. We seem to be having some technical tensions this merry morrow, but let's move on, let's groove on. This is the new sensational song from The Move. This is _Night of Fear_."

"No, it's not!" Simon cried excitedly. _Rock Around the Christmas Tree_ began playing. We all applauded the screw up, and I started dancing a bit and singing along.

Another voice came on, but still bright. "Ok, alright, everybody. Everything is ok because Big Dave is here to the rock n' roll rescue. Let's listen to the palatable platter known as Gary Puckett while Bernard tries to figure out where he left his brain this morning." The other guy interjected with a laugh. "And naughty Gary is quite interested in a very young girl." This record stuck on the first note. Everyone gave me and Angus the credit for that one since we had done the slicing and carving. The guy quickly came back on, laughing. "Ha, well, Gary seems to be stuck in that relationship. You know, I know of someone who's not stuck in anything because they have got one of the best products in the entire world."

We all turned to our Dave who had recorded something beforehand and left it as the only not-glued-to-a-surface advertisement. "Tense? Need to relax? No better way to do that than _Night_'s cigarettes. They'll give you cancer, and then you can relax for the rest of your life. Oh...because you'll be dead."

"Okiedokie!" the Bernard fellow came back in. "I think it's time we went to the weather! What's in store for us today, Katie?"

Gavin and I exchanged excited grins as a dreamy sort of voice said, "Oh...the weather is just...um...you know...great. And last night...was...heaven." There was a shocked silence emanating from the radio that we drowned out with our ohs!

I saluted Mark down at the end of the table, regretting being short with him earlier. Quentin, thoroughly amused, turned off the radio. "So," he said, "Radio Rock rules the waves once more. Life will be ecstasy."

I grinned and picked it up. "You and me, endlessly, grooving."

Gavin turned and looked at me. "Yeah," he said, all gravelly like and happy. I just smiled and nodded.

About ten minutes later, I got up to leave, saying, "I'm going to take a nap. Someone come get me when it's my turn to DJ."

"I will," Carl said.

"Thank you." As I got to the door, I spun on my heel to face the group again. "And, Gavin?" He looked over at me. "Don't you dare touch my microphone."


	11. Chapter 11

About two weeks passed after we did away with Radio Sunshine, and not a single thing of interest happened. I spent most of it staring at Gavin when he wasn't looking and staring at anything but him when he was. My mind kept going back to the morning topside and his arm around me. I liked it too much. I kind of started avoiding him again, and this time, he noticed. One afternoon, he cornered me in the hallway. "You're avoiding me," he stated plainly.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, ducking around him.

He followed, apparently intent upon getting an explanation. "You haven't been around for one of my broadcasts for weeks. That's not like you. And you're walking away from me. You never walk away when I'm talking to you unless you're mad, and you don't seem mad. So, the only conclusion I can draw is that you're avoiding me."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not."

"Then what's up?"

"Nothing."

"Liar."

"Leave me alone."

"Why?"

"Because!"

"Not until you tell me what I've done!"

"You haven't done anything!"

"So stop walking, turn around, and talk to me!" He caught my arm, and pulled me to a stop, then turned me around. "What the fuck is going on with you? You're acting very strange."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "It's just some stuff I'm trying to work out, and you distract me."

He grinned. "I distract everyone. I'm beautiful."

I turned and started walking again so he couldn't see me smile. "No argument there," I muttered. "You haven't done anything, Gavin. I'm not mad," I told him over my shoulder. "Don't worry about it."

"But I do worry about it!" he called.

"Don't!"

I managed to escape him for the next couple days. He seemed to be actually giving me space, rather than me just fighting for it the whole time. I really needed to pull myself together and decide what the heck I was going to do about all of this. I looked at Gavin and all I wanted was to be able to hang out with him forever, and play with his bangs, and try on his sunglasses, and all other manner of girly ideas. I loved the way he smiled, especially at me. I loved his clothes, I loved his voice, I even had some amount of fondness for his teeth, of all things. This wasn't supposed to happen...but it was anyway.

One night, I was chilling in the kitchen, snacking on an apple when the Count came in. "Chelsea! Guess what!"

"What?" I asked, bored.

"Carl's got a girl on the boat!"

"Say what?" I sat up straighter.

"You remember that one that came on a few months ago?"

"You mean Quentin's niece? The girl who ended up sleeping with Dave? What was her name? Marianne?"

He nodded. "That one."

"It's her?"

"Yup. She brought a friend too."

"Ooh. Kinky."

He grinned. "I don't think she's going to be involved. She's just here to hang out."

"Where is she? I want to meet her." I jumped off the stool I had been sitting on and followed him to where a girl was being surrounded by all of the guys minus Carl, Quentin, and Gavin. "Hey, back off!" I cried, shoving through them to her rescue. "Give the girl some room."

"Hello," she said once I reached her.

"Hi, I'm Chelsea," I said, shaking her hand.

"Margaret."

"If you'll follow me, I'll take you to the living area. It's much less confined, so these fellows will have less of an excuse to crowd around you."

She smiled. "Ok." We all made our way to the living room and sat around a table just talking. Margaret proved to be a very fun person to talk to. I liked her. A little bit into the conversation, Felicity brought her a cup of tea. "Oh, thank you, that's...lovely." I glanced up at the pause in her statement. She was staring at Felicity with this vaguely shocked smile on her face.

Felicity looked like she was choking on her own esophagus, but she managed to get out, "Lovely," in response. I turned to look at the Count who was sitting next to me. He looked rather shocked himself considering his eyebrows were about half way up his forehead. He met my gaze, then we both just grinned widely.

Later, when I realized that Felicity and Margaret had both disappeared recently, I ran to Gavin's room, laughing the whole way. I knocked on his door, and when he granted me entry, I busted in. "Guess what!" I cried.

He looked up at me from where he was lounging on his bed, a magazine that was actually not porn in his hand. "What?"

"Carl's lost love that he borrowed a condom from you for is here, and she brought a friend who disappeared right around the same time as Felicity, and no one knows where they went."

He didn't respond for a moment. Finally, he calmly sat down his magazine, then pulled his sunglasses down to the tip of his nose, looking at me over the top of them. "You're kidding," he replied, eyes wide. I grinned and shook my head. "Well, that's bloody brilliant."

"Isn't it? I..."

Someone else knocked on the door. "Yeah?" Gavin called.

The Count stuck his head in. "Hey, Gavin...oh, sorry." He glanced between the two of us curiously.

"Not a problem. What's up?"

"We, uh, we're going to set up a microphone outside of Carl's room."

"Broadcasting the status of his virginity, are we?"

"Absolutely."

"Count me in."

"Me too," I said. "It's about time that boy got some."

"This coming from what will probably be the only virgin on board by morning," Count remarked.

I smiled. "Just makes me more special!"

"You're already pretty damn special. You don't have to brag about it," Gavin said, rolling his eyes and grinning.

The Count glanced at him, then back at me. "Right. Well, I'm going to go help Harold with the mike. See you two by at least dawn, ok?"

"Got it," I replied, saluting him out the door. I glanced at my watch. It was already after 1 am. "Can I sleep over?" I asked. "It's already late, but we might as well get a couple hours of sleep."

"Yeah, that's fine. I don't know if I'm actually going to sleep or not, though."

"Ok. Fine by me." I clambered onto his bed on the side closest to the wall, then maneuvered myself under the blankets. As I laid back against one of his pillows, I asked, "You really think I'm special?"

He glanced at me, then pushed his glasses back up his nose. "A little bit."

I smiled and rolled so that my back was facing him. In my mind, I said 'Gavin, you're a little special too' and then it turned into a huge passionate encounter, but in reality, all I said was, "Night."

"Night, Chels."

I awoke to Gavin poking me in the ribs. "Get up, pigeon. It's almost dawn. The Count will have our heads if we're late."

"Yeah, yeah, alright!" I muttered, shoving his hand away.

"You going dressed like that?"

"Why the hell not?"

"I dunno. It would've given you an incentive to get up."

"I'm hungry. That's an incentive to get up," I groaned, sitting up.

"Come on, then." He offered me his hand, and I stared at it a minute before finally just taking it.

We ran through the halls to Carl's and Kevin's room. Everyone else except Quentin, Felicity, and Margaret had gathered outside. The Count waved at me. "Rise and shine, princess."

"Yeah, fuck off," I told him. "I'm going to get some food."

"But he might come out!"

"At the literal crack of dawn? Uh, no. He's a smart kid. I'll be back in ten minutes tops." With that, I defiantly made my way to the kitchen. I got myself a cup of tea, then fixed some toast. After buttering the toast, I started back towards Carl's room. I took my time, arriving back at almost precisely ten minutes from when I left. I grinned when I saw the Count actually check the clock then give me a thumbs up.

We were sitting there for nearly two hours. I kept nodding off onto Simon's shoulder. He would let me sleep for a few minutes, then wake me up again. About an hour into it, the Count went over the radio, explaining to listeners what was going on. Finally, when I was about ready to give up the whole idea, Carl's door crept open, and he backed out. The Count immediately began _Dancing in the Street_ and everyone around me cheered. I managed to at least clap. "At last, ladies and gentlemen, Carl has emerged from the Chamber of Love!" The Count announced into the microphone. "Carl, say hello to the 20 million people who have been waiting with bated breath to hear the news whether or not you have indeed misplaced your crucial cherry tonight!"

"Come on, guys!" Carl groaned, motioning towards the door.

"I think that's a yes! Is that a yes? And remember, the response 'I'm not going to answer that question' means yes."

"I'm certainly not going to answer that question," Carl replied.

"You just did! We have lift off!"

John, who was waiting in the corner with his own mike cut in with, "Yes, newsflash! A nice young man has lost his virginity in the North Sea. More soon on that breaking story."

"Well done, Carl!" Simon cheered.

Suddenly, the door opened again and Marianne walked out, wrapped only in a sheet.. We all mumbled quiet good mornings. "Morning," she replied.

I almost got up and left to go sleep some more, but I noticed a door open in my peripheral. I turned around and saw Felicity stick her head out, followed closely by Margaret. "Holy shit," I laughed. Everyone craned around to see.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you could see what I see now," Count cried. "They'll be dancing in the street all over the United Kingdom tonight!" As Carl and Marianne made their way back into their room, The Count called, "Carl, well done!" Carl just smiled and waved us off.

Marianne and Margaret left later that day. We all went topside to see them off. Felicity had a sign that said 'I LOVE YOU' on it that she had decorated with hearts. It was pretty cute, but the best sign was Kevin's 'MARGARET, I LOVE YOU TOO!'.

After bidding them farewell, The Count and I wandered to the nose of the ship to hang out. "Can I ask you a question?" he said after a long lull in the conversation.

"Sure."

"Are you and Gavin together and just not telling anyone?"

I snorted. "Why?"

"You spend every free moment with him. You sleep in his bed half the time. I mean, maybe it's not my business, but I've been wondering. I'm pretty sure everyone else has been too."

I glanced over at him. He was just running his index finger around the mouth of his beer bottle, watching me. "We're not together," I answered. "We're just friends."

"Like you and Simon?"

"Exactly like me and Simon."

"Except you desperately want to have sex with Gavin and not Simon."

I stared at him, trying very hard to dispute this, but I was tired of it. "Am I so obvious?" I asked.

He smiled. "Only to an experienced eye. You keep up a nice front. You know, I'm sure he would if you asked."

"Seriously, Count? Do you really think I would just meander up and ask, 'Oh, hey Gavin, can we go have a fuck in your room real quick? Yeah? Thanks.' I'm not that kind of girl!" I glared at him darkly for even suggesting it.

"Oho! There's emotional connection too. I see. So, are you in love with him, or what?"

"I...well..." This was it. This was the moment of truth that I had been needing for a long time. If I admitted it, things would just be better. "Yeah," I sighed. "I think so. Don't tell anybody any of this...please."

He put a hand to his heart. "I swore to be your protector. None of this shall pass beyond this conversation unless you wish it so."

"I just hope I can trust you," I muttered.

"Chelsea! That hurt! Of course you can trust me. Cross my heart and hope to die," he finished. I smiled over at him and he gave me a very brotherly one-armed hug. "Don't you worry. I'll take this to my grave."

"Well, you'll certainly get there before anything actually happens with Gavin, in any case. Do you think he actually feels anything? Like, ever?"

Count laughed. "Deep down, there might be a few stirrings. You might have to dig for them, but I think he does. And if it helps at all, I heard Angus and Dave talking the other day. They said that they've never seen him get this close to a girl without fucking her. Said he must really see something in you if he's still interested. Of course, they then decided that you two are screwing around without telling anyone, but since you know you're not, that ought to mean something, right?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess it does in its own weird way. Thanks."

"You know, I think he..."

"SHH!" My head had whipped towards the skinny entrance to the nose of the ship. Those familiar boots were coming.

Within a few seconds, Gavin popped around the corner. "There you are. Been looking for you all afternoon."

I looked up at him and smirked. "It's only 1:30."

"Well, it felt like all afternoon considering what time we got up," he replied with a pointed look at the Count.

He held up his hands. "Hey, you all were the ones who agreed to be present. You didn't have to go. You could've slept to your heart's content."

"Besides," I said, "I thought you said you weren't going to go to sleep anyway."

"Did he? And you're trying to put the blame on me!" Count muttered, feigning indignation. He stood up, winked at me, then left.

Gavin watched him go, a little puzzled looking, then took his vacated chair. "What was that about?"

I shrugged. "Just Count being Count. So, what's up? Why are you looking for me so desperately?"

"I was out of your company for more than an hour. I was having withdrawals," he fired back.

I grinned. "Shut up." He smiled over at me, and that scary heart palpitation that occurred whenever he did such a thing almost took my breath away. He looked out on the waves, and I suddenly got the urge to delve into the past a little. "Gavin."

"Hmm?"

"When you left Radio Rock, where did you go? You know, looking for your bigger and better things?"

He lit up a cigarette, then replied, "That, dear girl, is a secret."

I moved to the edge of my chair. "Yeah, and what's the point of a secret if you can't tell someone?"

He puffed thoughtfully on his paper-wrapped tobacco, then answered, "Good point. Well, if you must know, I went away to discover the meaning of life."

"That is slightly bigger and better than living on a cargo boat as a disc jockey," I commented.

He nodded. "I went to Africa, I traversed India, popped in on South America. I took drugs you couldn't dream of made from the kidneys of animals you've never even heard of, but I still hadn't found it. Then one day, I was in this little bar in Guatemala with this chick who was so beautiful. I mean, it was impossible to talk to her, you just wanted to have sex with her the whole time." I rolled my eyes, but smiled. "Anyway, she went for a swim, and I just sat there and I thought, 'Odd. I've got money, chicks, drugs, time on my hands, but I still haven't found what I'm looking for'. And then I noticed this old Guatemalan guy...face like an old shoe...and he walked across the room, and there in the corner, I hadn't seen it before, was a jukebox. He put in a coin, and he pressed three buttons." He paused, and I watched this strange, almost ecstatic smile stretch across his face. "And then..."

He let the pause go on long enough for me to get antsy. "What?"

"_Get Off My Cloud_ by the Rolling Stones," he concluded.

I grinned. "I love that song."

He nodded. "So do I. The opening drums started and I couldn't stop myself from starting to dance along. By the first chorus, I was on my feet. Me and him and eventually that chick danced our hearts out. At the end, he let out a victorious cry of 'Rock and roll!'" He paused again, taking a puff of his cigarette. "I got a ticket home the next day. You see, the thing that make sense of this crazy world...is rock and roll. I was crazy to think I could ever leave it all behind." He glanced at me, noted my 'drinking in every word' expression, and chuckled. "Lucky for you."

I absolutely could not stop the smile that split me face. "Lucky for me," I said.


	12. Chapter 12

Weeks came and went, and then, before I was even ready for it, Christmas was upon us. Harold kept himself busy decorating every inch of the boat he could find, and Quentin even arranged to have a tree brought out that was so big, we had to keep it outside. We didn't decorate it, but it still gave the place a Christmas-y feel. We basically had a no presents rule on board, so that took a lot of pressure off of me to find just the right thing for everybody. The big news floating around now was that Carl's mother was coming for Boxing Day. As this presented endless opportunities to tease Carl, we were all excited.

On the day of her arrival, we all went out on deck, waiting for the transport ship to show up. Carl decided not to join us. He went and stayed on the higher deck. When the little boat was in sight, we all started cheering and waving. As it pulled up alongside our ship, Gavin cried, "Oh, yes. A lady!"

"Ahoy!" Carl's mother replied, smiling. Quentin helped her up to the deck. "What a dump," she said, looking around.

"I'd hoped you'd like it," Quentin replied with a smile.

"Love it."

"This is Doctor Dave."

She shook Dave's hand. "You're not a real doctor, are you?"

I laughed and held out my hand. "Chelsea Black."

"Ah, Cheeky Chelsea," she said, taking it. "I'm Charlotte."

"It's a real pleasure."

Quentin went on with the introductions. "This is Gavin Cavanaugh."

"Ready for action," Gavin quipped.

"I bet you are," she replied.

I waited until she was out of ear-shot, then laughed a little mockingly and playfully poked him in the stomach. "She handles you even better than I do!"

"That's definitely saying something," Simon chimed in.

Gavin watched her go, a soft smile on his face. "Pretty one, that."

"Carl would never forgive you," I replied, knowing by his tone that he was only joking. I vaguely wondered if he was trying to make me jealous, but then I reminded myself that I hadn't told him how I felt or anything, so he would have no good reason to do so.

"Anyone know what's getting made for supper?" Simon asked as we descended below deck.

"Do we ever know what's getting made for supper, Simon?"

He shrugged. "I was just wondering." When we got off the stairs, I jumped on his back. "Woah! Easy!" I just laughed. He carried me all the way to my room where he dropped me off. "See you at the table, yeah?"

"Yeah! Thanks for the ride."

"Any time." He and Gavin both left, and I got changed for dinner.

I ended up arriving last for our meal, but Felicity hadn't even gotten all the dishes on the table yet, so I didn't feel bad. There was a free seat between Gavin and the Count, and I got the distinct feeling that it had been left open for me, so I took it. I managed to not comment about the furry white thing at the table until I sat down. "Gavin," I murmured quietly.

"Eh?"

"Why is Kevin wearing a white bunny suit?"

He looked over at me. "Are you really questioning the why of Kevin's actions?"

I snorted, trying not to bust out laughing. "Good point."

Supper was great fun, as were all meals on Radio Rock. Carl's mother proved to be a very witty woman, and I enjoyed her presence immensely. Near the end, Dave stood up, knocking his glass and fork together. "Now," he began, "I'd like to raise a glass to Carl's mother. Wonderful Charlotte, it was...a shag well shagged the night you made this little fella." He pat Carl on the shoulder while Felicity played with his hair.

"I couldn't have put it better myself," Charlotte replied.

"Now, when he came aboard, I'm sure it's all agreed that we thought he was a bit of a posh tosser." There was some general, playful consent with this. "You know what? He is now one of us!" We all applauded and cheered. "We would like him to stay forever!"

"And ever and ever!" I cried.

"And just to finish off, Kev. Bless you, rabbits are Easter, not Christmas," he told the delightfully bewildered looking Kevin.

"That's why they call it the Easter Bunny," Simon told him.

Kevin looked around at all of us through the face hole in the suit. "Oh, right. I am seriously thick, aren't I?"

"You are!" we all cried, laughing. "Thick Kevin!" we toasted.

John cut in with, "Alright, jokes!"

"Jokes!" Simon cried happily.

"What is the largest living mammal on Earth?" John read. We all repeated it, then waited for the answer. "The blue whale! Weighing over 150 tons. Oh...these are facts! These are the fact ones. They're not jokes."

"Failure!" I laughed. Then, something occurred to me. "John, read it again."

"What?"

"Read it again!"

He looked at me, plenty confused, but he humored me. "What is the largest living mammal on Earth?"

"Your mum," I said.

The table erupted in laughter. The Count was laughing so hard, I feared he might lose everything he had ingested, and since I knew just how much that was, I scooted a little closer to Gavin. I had even made Charlotte laugh, so I felt like I had accomplished something. Impress the guest. Quentin, in all his calmness, was actually laughing too. Oh, yes. This had been a job well done.

Carl's mother left the next morning, and that after Christmas bummed out mood set in for me. It always lasted for at least three days. It was made remarkably worse by an announcement from the mainland on December 28th. In an evening newscast, John said, "In the House of Commons today, the new Marine Offenses Act was passed unanimously. From midnight on New Year's Eve, all pirate radio stations, including, of course, Radio Rock, will be breaking the law. Everyone who works on them, and indeed everyone who listens to them, will be in contravention of the new law and risk prison sentences, both short and long."

This said, I just aimlessly wandered onto the deck, wishing I could just jump into the waves, and when I came back up, all of this would go away. This ship was my home. Being a DJ was my life. Rock and roll was everything. The government had taken it all away. "Chelsea." I hadn't noticed the Count sitting on the higher deck until he spoke.

I went up the steps, then plopped myself down on the ground in front of him. "You ok?" I asked, hoping he was better than I was.

"Yeah, just...a few months ago, I made a terrible mistake," he admitted.

"Really?"

"Yeah. I realized something. And instead of crushing the thought the moment it came, I...I let it hang on...now I know it to be true. And I'm afraid it's stuck in my head forever."

"What was the thought?"

"That these are the best days of our lives." He gave me a rather unconvincing smile. "It's a terrible thing to know, but I know it."

I couldn't help but want to comfort him, even if I wasn't feeling much more optimistic myself. "I don't know about that," I said.

"Oh, well, yeah," he laughed. "Maybe you'll be lucky. Maybe you'll have better days, but I doubt it." He smiled and affectionately tapped my foot with his. "We stood on top of the mountain, chica. It's a long way doobie-doobie down."

Our eyes met, and against everything I believed in, a tear fell from one of mine. I wiped it away quickly. "Fuck. Look what you made me do!"

He grinned. "Let it out, Chels. Tell me what you're thinking."

I shook my head, sighing. "I just...I have nothing outside of this ship. This is my life. I knew it would be the moment I laid eyes on it. I can't go back to working at that café. Not after this."

"Maybe you and Gavin can run off and have amazing adventures together or something."

"Pfft, yeah right."

"Well, then maybe you and Simon will realize you're madly in love with each other, then get a cute little house in the country."

I busted out laughing. "Oh, yeah. That's a lot more likely. Seriously, why does everyone think Simon and I should get together?"

"Well, if you don't mind my saying, you're perfect for each other."

"No, we're not. We're perfect friends. We can tell each other everything. If we started dating, secrets would start to crop up and we'd fall apart. I'd rather not do that."

"So, you and Gavin are more compatible?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Not necessarily," I answered.

"You just love him."

I searched my brain for another explanation, but failed to find one, so I just nodded. "Yep. I love him."

"Are you ever planning on telling him?"

"Maybe the day I die. He'll just laugh at me."

"You don't know that! What if he grabs you up in his arms and tells you he loves you too, or some other romantic something you girls seem to like so much."

I smiled. "Can you really see Gavin doing that? I mean, can you actually picture it?"

He shrugged. "It's not out of the question, Chelsea. You should tell him. Tell him before you lose him. That's all. Don't let the opportune moment pass you by."

"Thanks for the advice, Count, but...I don't know." I stood. "We have three days left of work. I'm going to go sleep so that I can perform tomorrow."

He nodded. "Agreed. Now, help my fat ass out of this chair." I laughed, then offered him my hand. He took it, and after a few heaves and hos, he managed to stand.

As we went down the stairs, I added, "Really, though, thank you for the advice. And you were the best protector I've ever had."

"You've been a good subject," he replied with a phony pompous air. Laughing, we went below.

The next night, I was lying on my back in Gavin's bed. He was lying beside me. Neither one of us could sleep. The only light in the room was the faint glow given off by the moon. "Gavin," I said quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Where will you go? When this is over, I mean."

"I haven't decided. Maybe back to America. There's nothing really keeping me here."

There was this terrible sinking feeling in my gut that I tried very hard to ignore. "Nothing at all?"

"Not really. At least, nothing that has yet come to light. I dunno. Maybe something will come up. Life is full of surprises."

"It is that," I said, strongly considering blurting out the 'I love you' statement.

"What about you, pigeon? Where will you go?"

"Um...I haven't got a clue. I don't think I can go back to Sheringham. Maybe I'll go to London or something. Or go check out Ireland with Simon."

"Is he going back?"

"He hasn't told me what he's doing. I'm just throwing out options."

"I don't blame you." There was a long pause before he said, "Maybe you could come with me to America if I go."

I turned my head to look at him. "You'd have me?"

"Absolutely."

"Why?"

He looked over at me. "Why not? Besides, you're too much fun to just lose contact with."

"Oh, I don't intend to lose contact with anyone. Hell, I'll even write the damn crew members," I said. "This has been the best year of my life. The absolute best. I was going to do this for the rest of my life. Now..." A few tears leaked out of my eyes. I blinked them away quickly, hoping it was too dark for him to see.

"I'm sure you'll figure out something. You're a charming, smart, beautiful girl who can get anything she wants with a threatening expression. You'll be fine."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I'm good at the threatening. They'll give me what I want because I scare them, but not because they understand why I want it or anything."

"Why don't you let people in, Chels? I've always noticed that about you. You build walls around your head and your heart, and you rarely even let yourself in."

I stared at him. "Well, that's frighteningly philosophical. What did you eat?"

He smiled, but quickly got serious again. "I want an answer."

I bit my lip. This kind of thing was just the kind of thing I avoided. I didn't open up. I didn't tell people these truths. "I'm just afraid of getting hurt," I said quickly so I couldn't stop.

I waited, expecting him to laugh or something, but he simply nodded. "You can't be afraid of getting hurt. You'll never find joy, or love, or happiness without the pain."

I put a finger over his lips, frowning. "This is just creepy coming out of you. Stop. Seriously, when did you get all counselor-like?"

He pulled my finger away and smiled. "It's in here. I just don't think to use it a lot."

"I wonder why. You're always thinking with your cock, not your brain." He stuck his tongue out at me, so I did the same. Then, I smiled softly, looking at his faint outline in the dark. "Are you glad you came back?"

"I am. Are you glad I came back?"

I snorted, but replied, "Yeah. This job would've been a lot less exciting. It's...it's been very fun."

He nodded. Suddenly, he said, "Hey, let's go stay out on deck again."

"It is bloody freezing out there."

"We'll take a lot of blankets. Come on! Please?"

I had never heard him ask for anything like that before. It shocked me. "Yeah...yeah, ok. Let's go."

We gathered all our materials, then quietly made our way up to the higher deck. It was bone-chilling cold, but we brought about 10 blankets. We put two of them beneath us, then used the other eight as insulation. I looked over at him, and he looked at me. We were both thinking the exact same thing. I scooted against him and put my head on his chest, and he wrapped his arm around me. I didn't know what this meant. I wasn't going to worry about it. I was just going to absorb the moment. The life I had known with Gavin Cavanaugh was drawing to a close, so I might as well enjoy it. Fuck the government and their stupid laws.


	13. Chapter 13

On December 31st, Quentin called us all to the living room. Barely anyone spoke as we all filed in. No one knew what to say. I sat in a beach chair beside the Count and sighed. He looked over at me and nodded. That about summed it all up. Gavin sat on my other side and looked over at me. I met his gaze through the lenses of his sunglasses and gave him a half-hearted smile. He returned it. Finally, Quentin stood up and began. "The day has come," he said somberly. "Tonight, pirate radio dies. From midnight, we are a ghost ship floating without hope on cold, dark waters. You have done almighty work here. Thank you. But your work is done." With that gut wrenching statement, he started to leave.

To my left, the Count stood up and cleared his throat. "Not mine, sir," he declared. When Quentin turned back around, he continued, "I'm an American citizen, and I don't give a hootenanny god damn about your nitpicking limey laws. I intend to broadcast from this ship 24 hours a day until the day I die...and maybe a few more after that." Quentin nodded, smiling a little.

Then, from my right, Gavin spoke up. "Not wanting to sound rude or anything, but don't you think that might be an ever so slightly monotonous experience for the listener?" I grinned as he stood up. "What do you say to 12 hours each, noble sir?"

He and the Count shared a smile, but I cut in. "No!" They both looked at me, a little surprised. "Absolutely not!" I stood up. "8 hours each, you crazy bastards." The Count grinned from ear to ear and clapped me on the back. Gavin just looked at me and nodded.

Angus stood up from where he was sitting on the couch. "The way I look at it," he said, "the world couldn't survive without my comedy. And who's going to have the moral backbone to play The Seekers when the mood is right?"

"They've split up," Dave muttered from beside him.

Angus gave him a look, then announced, "I intend to celebrate the back catalog."

Dave looked up at him, then stood. "I intend to stop you doing so!"

Mark stood up behind me and Gavin and lit a cigarette. We all took this as him joining up. In front of me, Simon stood. "As some of you know, my wife left me after 17 hours of marriage, but I survived that because I...I live for music. And now, with nothing else to live for, I'm willing to die for it as well."

I smiled, then took a few steps forward and hugged him from behind. He pat my arm and smiled too.

Over by Mark, John got up. "I've always lived for news and weather. Happy to die for them, too. Especially the weather," he told us choppily. I snorted and chuckled as I moved back to my spot.

Bob stood on the other side of the room. "Um...I've got nowhere else to go," he said plainly. Quentin gave him a warm smile, and I marveled at how much I liked Bob even though I had never actually talked to him for more than a few seconds.

Beside him, Harold stood for his turn. "I have somewhere else to go," he said. Quentin gave him an understanding nod. "But it's Peckham," he finished. We all chuckled. "So, I think I'll stick around."

Felicity stood and told us, "Can't let everyone starve. And I'm slightly worried where my increasingly powerful sexuality will take me when I return to normal life."

Beside her, Kevin piped up, "I've got a very strong suspicion that Felicity fancies me." We all had to fight guffaws. "Not about to go anywhere, just when I'm in with a chance."

Carl, who was sitting basically in the center of everyone, stood up. "Obviously, I'm in. You're the only people in the world who like me." Simon put a kind hand on the side of his face for a moment, then let it drop.

Quentin looked around at us, at least a little touched by our display of loyalty. "Thank you gentlemen, lesbian, lady," I gave him a slight bow, and he turned to Bob, "strange...bearded thing." Bob smiled. "But make no mistake, they will come after us."

"Let 'em try," Count said.

Quentin straightened up, then saluted us. We all saluted him in return, and when his hand went down, we followed suit. I looked around at all of the people in the room with me, and I was shocked at just how much I absolutely adored each and every one of them for something. Dave maybe just a bit less than the rest. This was my family, and I didn't need anything else but this.

That night, as the clock neared midnight, we all gathered in the Count's studio while he performed our closing speech. "So, faithful followers, the end is nigh. We bid you farewell with dignity and pride. We thought we'd never die. But, well, we can't fight city hall. And so, take care, be good. Listen to the music. It's a good thing to do. It's the Count, counting down and out for the count at last. Three, two, one...and the rest is silence." I looked over at the clock. The second hand struck twelve, beginning the new year, right as his speech ended. I smiled a little. The Count turned and looked at the clock, too. He waited until the second hand got to the two, then cried, "ONLY KIDDING, DUDES! LET'S ROCK!" He turned on _My Generation_ by The Who while we all cheered.

The whole night turned into an epic dance fest. I danced every dance I knew and then improvised for the rest. I couldn't help but laugh at the fact that I was getting paid to do this. I had never had so much fun. Carl was snapping pictures the whole night when he wasn't dancing too, and he caught one of me and Gavin air-guitaring. After blinking the flash out of my eyes, I told him I wanted a copy. He just nodded and grinned. At one point, the Count pulled me over and asked, "So, what do you say? Think you'll ever have better days than this?"

I smiled. "It's not possible. There is nothing better than this in the world."

"I tried to tell you," he laughed.

When the sun began creeping over the horizon, we all retired to the living room, drunk with the ecstasy of the night before. Simon and I, who were laughing hysterically over something that really wasn't that funny, stumbled in, and I saw a free seat by Gavin on the couch and cried, "I get the seat by the sunglasses guy!" even though he actually had taken them off. He smiled and pat the couch next to him, so I ran over and basically, for all intents and purposes, fell onto the couch, laughing. I was crazy tired. That was the only reason I was acting like this. Angus said something that I don't even think I heard right, but I just started cracking up. I was laughing so hard I just laid over and put my head in Gavin's lap. The Count saw and raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say anything. He turned around, I think to hide his smile.

As the light began to permeate the room from outside, we all started settling down. I was constantly yawning, and teetering on the edge of sleep. Gavin had put a hand on my head and was just kind of petting my hair. It was definitely not helping me stay awake. Finally, Quentin came in and we all gave him some applause. That woke me up a little. He looked around with a weak smile on his face. "All right, we had a good night, but that thing you see shining through the window is the cold light of dawn. I don't want you all to imagine that they won't be coming after us with the full force of the law to crush our testicles like grapes."

"Good thing I haven't got any of those," I muttered sleepily. Gavin looked down at me and bit his lip to hide a grin.

"But don't despair completely, because I'm glad to tell you, I've come up with quite a clever little plan. All hand on deck, eh? I just hope it works."

We all applauded him again. "Of course it'll work!" Simon cried.

That night, I was sitting on the railing of the higher deck, and Gavin had an arm on either side of me to make sure I didn't fall. Wind was blowing through my hair, and I was having a grand time just watching our beloved ship cut through the water like she was made to. "This was a good plan," I said.

"It certainly wasn't a bad one," Gavin replied. He took a drag on a cigarette until I pulled it away from him and launched it overboard. "What the fuck?" he cried in dismay as it disappeared over the side.

"Stop smoking those damn cigarettes! They're going to murder your voice! Not to mention you, eventually."

He glared up at me while Dave came over the radio. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are on the move. If they want to stop us, they are going to have to find us. This is Radio Rock in motion, on the ocean."

I smiled and leaned back a little to look up at the stars. It was a good thing I had, too, because if I hadn't I would've been shot forward when the ship lurched violently. Instead, I was thrown backwards, right into Gavin's arms. He fell backwards too, though, so we still ended up in a heap on the ground, but it was a lot shorter of a fall that forwards would've been. "Are you alright?" he cried, pulling me to my feet.

"I'm fine. You?"

"Fine."

We both ran to the railing and looked over. The crew members were shouting and running around frantically. We looked at each other, then turned tail and ran down to the living room where everyone else would eventually get to. After everyone was accounted for, Quentin came in. Gavin, the Count, and I were sitting on the couch, me in the middle, staring at out leader. "Guys, I have some good news and some bad news. Which would you prefer?"

"Good news," we all answered unanimously...even if Kevin was a little delayed.

"Ok. The good news is the engine has exploded and we're all going to die," he told us bluntly.

There were some indistinct murmurs throughout, then I raised my hand. "Hello! Cheeky Chelsea, Radio Rock. Um...how exactly is that good news?" Gavin, in all his chilled-ness, just grinned at me trying to be sarcastic.

"I haven't yet told you how we're going to die," Quentin answered. "That's the bad news."

"Oh, I see," I said, nodding. "How are we going to die?"

"We're going to drown in the freezing waters of the North Sea."

"Uh huh. That's...that's bloody excellent," I said. I knew my face was losing color, but I was determined not to show it.

Everyone else groaned something that expressed their distaste in this idea except Kevin. He looked over at Angus and quite calmly said, "Actually, that's quite good for you, isn't it? Because you can't swim, so you'll die quicker." Ang looked absolutely horrified.

The smile that I found on my face after overhearing that felt very out of place, but then I noticed that Gavin was smiling a little too. "What you grinning about?" I demanded. He just shook his head and kept smirking.

"Apparently, there is a huge hole in the side of the boat," Quentin said, "and in an unfortunate development, it transpires that the lifeboats are useless."

My mind immediately went to the image of John refereeing our football games with his legs sticking through two large holes in the side of one of the lifeboats. "Of course they're useless," I mumbled. "That would just make things too easy!"

The ship lurched again, and I found myself in a pile on the floor with Gavin again. He stood both of us up, and cried, "Alright! Alright, alright! I'm going to the studio!"

"This isn't going to happen," Count declared.

As Gavin left, I looked around at everyone and said, "I'm going with him," then ran after him. John and Harold followed me.

Once we were down in the studio, John gave a quick newsflash. "A Radio Rock newsflash with John Mayford," the prerecorded announcer said.

"News coming in that the famous Radio Rock has a large hole in its side, and is therefore sinking into the North Sea. Really quite fast," John said before handing it off to Gavin.

I leaned on his table area as he suavely spoke into the microphone. "So, a tiny little crisis here," he said. Something crashed loudly overhead and we both looked up at the ceiling, then at each other. His face betrayed the worry that his voice didn't, and I was pretty sure I looked terrified. "So, if any of you out there knows anyone in Suffolk with a boat of any shape or form, give 'em a ring. Our coordinates are..." he grabbed the paper John was holding out to him, "...53-17 north, 2..." His voice caught, and that scared me more than anything had so far. "Sorry," he murmured into the mike. "2-15 east. Here's a rather long record." He turned on _Whiter Shade of Pale_ by Procol Harum. "I hope I'm here at the end of it."

He looked at me, and regret passed over his face. I think it was from the look on mine. The song itself had gotten to me, and then when he said he hoped he was here at the end...that did it. My well fashioned defenses against fear and personal weakness were breached. I barely trusted myself to talk, let alone walk, but I took a few steps towards the door, saying, "I'm...I'm gonna go get some stuff out of my room. I mean, I know it won't do any good...I just...I want to have it on me...yeah." I took a few more shaky steps towards the door, and then Gavin ripped off his headphones, got up, crossed to me, pushed me against the wall, and kissed me. Hard. John and Harold had about the same wide-eyed expression I had. I finally unfroze and managed to kiss the poor guy back.

He pulled away a little and murmured, "I thought you should get the chance to kiss a blonde before you die."

I actually laughed a little. Nervously, but I laughed. "Get a chance," I scoffed. "You didn't give me a choice!" He smiled and kissed me again, softer this time. "Besides," I said, breaking away and heading towards to door again, "I've had a lot of chances. I just never took them, and that was my mistake. I'm sorry."

One corner of his mouth lifted into a smile. "We've got a few hours yet, pigeon. It's not over."

I smiled. "Ok."

"See you in a bit." He winked.

"Yeah. Yeah, see ya." I ran out the door, and to my room, smiling the whole way. Once in my room, I grabbed the picture of me and Gavin that Carl had given me for my birthday, the star chart that Gavin gave me, and the one picture I had of everyone on the boat. Then, I opened my door, ran out and collided with Simon.

"Oh, Chelsea, I'm so sorry!" He cried, helping me up.

"That's ok," I answered. I still had a huge smile on my face.

Once I was standing, he took note of this smile and asked, "What are you smiling about?"

I looked at him. "Simon...I think I just hooked up with Gavin Cavanaugh."

He started grinning too. "Maybe this isn't the best time...but I bloody told you so."


	14. Chapter 14

Simon and I raced to Quentin's quarters, which was where we had all agreed to meet back because it was on the side of the ship that wasn't stuck in the water yet. The whole ship was already at an angle, and we managed to approach his room from one of the steepest points.

We fought our way up, holding onto door handles and whatnot, and finally, we emerged through the doorway. "Simon, Chelsea, good," Quentin sighed. Mark stumbled in from a different door right after we got there. "Mark, excellent. Come in. And in those trousers." Everyone appeared to be present. Gavin grabbed my hand and pulled me over to where he was hanging onto a pole that ran from the ceiling to the floor. I latched my arms around it while he hooked one of his around it. "So, we'll be safe here for a while. That captain thinks we've got till dawn before we go the full _Titanic_. We've sent out official distress call, and I'm sure someone will rescue us soon." The ship jerked again, and my feet slid out from under me. Everyone else either fell or held onto something very tightly.

"Really?" Simon asked as the Count pulled him back to his feet.

"Really," Quentin answered.

Angus nervously spoke up, "Can I just say something, then? I know I'm not the most popular guy on the boat. On the radio I'm fine. In the flesh, there's something that people just don't warm to. I know. I just wanna say, the three years here, I've been closer to finding friendship than I've ever been in my life." Gavin rolled his eyes and sighed. "And I'd rather have had that and die than not have had it and live. I think." Something crashed elsewhere on the ship. "Maybe not. No actually."

"Ang, come on!" Simon said, going over an putting an arm around his shoulders. "You're being ridiculous!"

"I'm not popular."

"No, that's...every group needs a fall guy, Ang, and yeah, sure, you've been it, but it's not...it's just been a joke. You know? I mean, look here, everybody who actually loves this nut, raise your hand." Slowly, hands went up around the room. I raised my hand, but both Gavin and the Count beside me shook their heads. Dave, also, did not raise his hand.

"David?" Angus asked concernedly.

"Be honest!" Simon said.

Again slowly, hands started to go down. Every single one. Simon's face lost its enthusiasm and Angus was like, "Really? Guys!" Gavin and the Count just burst into laughter, then everyone started laughing.

I couldn't help but laugh too. I called, "When you say love, Simon...that has a lot involved! I mean, really..."

Finally, Angus just laughed too. "Come on, you guys," he said.

"Wait a minute. Where's Bob?" Carl interjected. "Where's my dad?" Silence suddenly took over. He looked around at us, then turned and scurried out the door.

"Dad...," I whispered, a little shocked. I shook my head clear, then said, "So, who's broadcasting?"

"No one," John answered. "203 meters on the medium waveband is silent for the first time."

I looked around at everyone, but my eyes caught on the Count. He knew what I was thinking, and he gave me a nod of approval. "Well, do excuse my language, but fuck that right, left, and center. Count, if you will accompany me, please..." I saluted everyone, then ran out the door.

The Count and I fought our way down to the studios. Water was starting to run down stairwells and come in through light fixtures. I was starting to feel claustrophobic, and I wasn't even a diagnosed claustrophobic. Still, if being a DJ was my life, then I was going to hang onto with everything I had until the sea took it away. I got the Count set up at a microphone, then walked around to stand beside him as he talked. "To all of our listeners out there, this is what I have to say. God bless you all. And as for you bastards in charge, don't dream it's over. Years will come, years will go, and politicians will do fuck all to make the world a better place." I looked over my shoulder when I saw Gavin come in. He waded through the now waist deep water to my side. "But all over the world, young men and young women will always dream dreams and put those dreams into song."

I took the mike from him. "Nothing important dies tonight!" I said heatedly. "Just a few ugly guys and a crappy ship. The only sadness tonight is that, in future years, there will be so many fantastic songs that it will not be our privilege to play." Gavin nodded and put a hand on my back. I glanced at him, while continuing, "But, believe you me, they will still be written. They will still be sung. And they will be the wonder of the world."

I handed off the mike to Gavin who simply said, "Hit it." The Count flicked the switch on the record player, starting _Wouldn't It Be Nice_ by the Beach Boys. I stared at the record going around on the player wishing I could wake up. It wasn't happening. Gavin took one of my hands and started pulling me towards the door. "I think we better go," he said to both me and the Count.

The Count looked at the two of us, noted our joined hands, and smiled. "You do what you gotta do," he said. It suddenly occurred to me what this was. Even if we only had about an hour left to live, Count was passing on his mantle of Chelsea protector to the new guy. It also occurred to me how corny it was. That's probably why he didn't actually say it. Gavin nodded. I guess he figured it out too. Then he started pulling me out the door again. We were only a few inches out of sight when the Count added, "Chicken!"

I looked up at Gavin, and Gavin looked down at me, and we both grinned. We stuck out heads back around the door, and Gavin laughed. I gave the Count a thumbs up, then said, "Hurry out, yeah?"

"Sure thing, beautiful," he answered, waving. I blew him a kiss, then left.

Gavin and I had to fight through a lot of water to get to the door to get out. About half way there, I broke down and started crying. "Gavin," I called. He stopped and spun around. "I'm really scared," I admitted.

He struggled to me, then wrapped his arms about me tightly, hugging me to his chest. "Yeah, me too, Chels," he said. "Let's not give in though, right? You've gotta be cheeky, and I've gotta be gorgeous. Can't do that if we're scared. Well, I might be able to, but..."

I laughed and poked him in the ribs. "Cocky son of a bitch, aren't you?"

"I've never known a better one," he replied, just as he had months before. "Come on, love. We'll definitely drown quicker in here."

"Ok. Let's go."

Finally, we burst free of the confines of the ship's belly, and swam to the steps going to the back end which was sticking in the air. Just as we got there, Angus cried, "How about this situation here? You can't fuck your way out of this one, Mark! We're gonna die!"

Gavin took my hand, then called up to the others all clinging to railings at the top, "We are going to live forever!"

"Gavin! Chelsea!" they all cried happily.

As we clambered up, I said, "So, this is where the party is!"

As he was lighting a cigarette, Quentin said, "Come on up. Relax, enjoy yourself."

Dave offered me his hand, so I took it, and he helped me up a little farther. I grabbed onto some rails, then turned and pulled Gavin up. He held onto the rails with one arm on each side of me, kind of helping me stay where I was. ¾ of the ship was under water now, and only our little end remained. All the lights cut off and _Wouldn't It Be Nice_ faded away in a sickly, horror movie kind of way. "It's not getting better," Quentin sighed.

As if to agree, the ship jerked, then started sinking ten times faster than it had been. I screamed. Felicity screamed. All the guys yelled something. Gavin cried, "This is it! We are going to _die_!"

I grabbed his jacket with one hand and shook him as hard as I could given the funky angle. "Pull it together!" I yelled extremely unconvincingly at him. "You're suppose to tell me it's ok!" The ship lurched downwards again, so I screamed again. Gavin, obviously not knowing how to handle any of it, just cut my scream off with a vicious kiss. That worked for me.

"Wait!" Simon called from the top.

We all looked up at him. "What?" someone cried.

"A boat!" he answered.

"How big? How big a boat?" Angus asked frantically.

"It's not actually just one boat."

"Two boats?" Quentin asked.

"Three boats?" Felicity followed.

"It's ever so slightly more than three boats!" Simon answered them.

"How many damn boats?" I yelled up at him, a little annoyed that he had interrupted that very interesting kiss.

"I think the technical term is a fuck load of boats!" We all got to where we could see. That term had definitely described it well. "They're everywhere!"

I screamed happily and laughed. People were calling out our names as we cheered. One sign caught my attention. 'WE HEARD YOU' it said. My chest swelled with pride and fondness for our listeners. That's when I noticed the boats full of guys with signs that had my name on them. "Oh, christ," I muttered.

"Look!" Gavin said, pulling me to my feet. "It's your fans! Come on, guys!" he told the others. "Let's get off this sinking piece of junk!" We climbed over the railing to the edge of the boat, and he took my hand tightly. "Don't let go," he said, smirking.

"Gavin," I said plainly, "I'm not letting the opportune moment pass me by. I love you."

He smiled and shrugged. "I know you do, pigeon. I love you too." Then, he jumped, and we were falling through the air. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or scream. We hit the freezing water, and I was afraid I was going to lose my grip on his hand, but he clung to me as we kicked our way to the surface.

The others were joining us in the water, one after the other. Finally, it came down to just Angus. "Oh...I still can't swim!" he cried before haphazardly jumping in.

Once Gavin and I broke the surface, we let go of each other so we could actually swim. He flipped around and stared doing a back stroke, and boy, did he look cocky. I just laughed and splashed some water at him. He kicked hard and returned the favor. Everyone was finding their way to a boat, so Gavin looked around. "Come with me," he called over his shoulder. "I know these guys!" I followed him to this classy yacht, stunned. They pulled him on board, then he turned around and offered his hand to me. Once I was on deck, a finely dressed woman put a towel around me.

"There now, you must be freezing!" she said.

"Bit of an understatement," I answered through chattering teeth.

She laughed. "Let me get you another. I'll be right back."

Gavin exchanged some words and a hand shake with the husband, then came to me and put an arm around my shoulders. "You ok?" he asked.

I nodded, shivering. "I'm fine."

"Good." He reached into his pocket and pulled out those sunglasses, then promptly put them on. "Everything's going to be just fine," he said, nodding.

I just laughed and threw my arms around his neck. He picked me up and spun me around a few times, laughing right along with me. When he sat me down, I saw Kevin on a boat with Carl and Marianne. He threw his fists up in the air and smiled at me. I pointed out at him, just so he'd know I saw. Then, the ship creaked and moaned as it made it's final dive beneath the waves, and I remembered that we'd left someone behind. I left Gavin's embrace and walked to the side of the boat, staring at Radio Rock as it submerged, a bunch of record covers floating around. "Where's the Count?" I whispered, searching the area desperately. The air was eerily silent because everyone had watched the ship go under, saddened. I stared at the rolling bubbles and whitecaps that surrounded the sink site. "This isn't going to happen," I said defiantly, closing my eyes. "This isn't going to happen."

My eyes flew open when there came a very loud disturbance of the water. When the waves had cleared, I could see the Count treading water, and I just threw my hands in the air and cheered. Everyone did. The result was this thunderous roar of happiness, and it sounded good. "ROCK 'N' ROLL!" Count cried. All around, his victorious cry was echoed.

I stuck my fist in the air and exclaimed, "ROCK 'N' ROLL!"

Gavin walked up behind me, put his chin on my shoulder, and said, "Because the only thing that makes sense of this crazy world...is rock and roll."


	15. Epilogue

**Note: Thank you so much for reading. I'm sorry I posted a whole bunch at the end but my internet is limited. I hope you enjoyed the story. Please, please, please review!**

Once we were back on shore, the whole ordeal sort of turned into an unofficial press conference... without the press. People were drilling us with questions, asking for autographs, everything under the sun. We were just trying to weather through them so we could figure out what we were going to do. Gavin and I stayed side by side the whole time, trying not to get carried away by fans. Gavin was in the middle of signing something when this girl came up and shoved him. "Are you with her now?" she demanded.

I spun around, a little worried about how this was going to play out. Gavin seemed at a loss for words, so I jumped in. "Well, I mean...we never actually said..."

"I kissed you," he cut in.

The girl scoffed at me. "He did more than that with me. First night. Every night." Gavin stared at her, I stared at Gavin, and she just looked between both of us, smug. "Every night," she repeated, hoping to drive the stake deeper. Unfortunately for her, there was no stake to drive. None of this was phasing me, which was actually kind of surprising.

Coolly, Gavin told her, "Extenuating circumstances prevented such relations. I made a temporary exception because of those circumstances." He looked down at me and raised an eyebrow. "Temporary," he repeated. I could feel the blush rushing into my cheeks as the other girl let out an angry screech and ran off. "Bye, whatever your name is!" he called after her. There was another distant scream of anger, and I laughed a little.

I looked up at him and asked, "Extenuating circumstances?"

"Well, Chelsea," he accentuated my name, given his last comment to the other girl, and he brought one of my hands up to his lips. "Falling in love with you made me a little more concerned with how you felt about it all. Believe me, it wasn't in the plan."

I nodded. "So, I _was_ just going to be one of your screw 'em and leave 'em girls."

"I'm not going to lie. That was my initial idea."

"What changed your mind?"

"Honestly...Elenore," he admitted.

"How?" I asked stiffly.

"The look on your face when I admitted to fucking her. The look on your face as you left. Hell, the look on your face when you came in! Do you know you tear-stain easily?" I rolled my eyes and tried to reclaim my hand, but he held tight. "I hurt you. I realized then that I had hurt you, and it scared the bloody piss out of me when I realized that I felt bad about it. I didn't just want to get in your pants anymore."

"That sounds...chivalrous and typical, disgusting guy all at the same time," I said. He smiled. I had to return it. "What did you want?"

"I wanted to be the one who tells you everything will be alright when you're sad. I wanted to be the one always there to get you tea and aspirin when you drink to much." I grinned. "I wanted to be the one you felt like you could tell anything to...like Simon."

"Is that why you kept asking if I'd do something we were doing with Simon?" He nodded. I smiled softly and shook my head. "Are you just saying all this to get in my pants?"

"No. I already know I've got you. Why would I keep trying?"

"Oh, that's nice," I laughed, pulling backwards a little.

He followed, laughing a little too, but he grew serious. "I wanted to be your best friend, your lover...your everything."

"You already were my everything, Gavin," I sighed. "I just couldn't admit it yet."

"Oh? Why is that?"

"I was scared. I knew what kind of guy you were, and I didn't want to get caught up in that. I cannot claim that I loved you from 'are you a lesbian too', but it wasn't too long after that."

He laughed and leaned his head against mine. "So," he murmured, "now that we've gotten past all our stupid fears, what are we going to do about it?"

I sighed and looked around at all of our shipmates. Simon was necking with the girl that had rescued him from the water. Kevin, Carl, and Marianne were all talking with what appeared to be Marianne's father. Dave was surrounded by fangirls, and I rather hoped they would just run off with him. Angus was surrounded by people too, and he seemed pleasantly surprised that they were there. Quentin was talking to a woman that I assumed was Marianne's mother because she looked a little like Quentin. Harold and John were talking, obviously not knowing what to do about the fans that trailed them everywhere. Mark was surrounded by women, and he wasn't saying a word. Bob seemed to be having a very deep conversation with someone similarly bearded. Felicity was with Margaret. They were all happy. After a little bit of searching, I finally found the Count. He was drying his hair with a towel, and when he removed it, our eyes met. He smiled widely and gave me a salute. I smiled back warmly.

Finally, I leaned back to look Gavin in the eyes. "First, I am going to give all of our friends my address. Then, we are going back to my house and cleaning off the meters of dust that have no doubt collected on all of my belongings while I've been away. And _then_, we are going to listen to rock and roll, and we are going to fix this damn temporary exception thing. Sound like a plan?"

"That sounds like a very good plan," he replied, placing a soft kiss on my lips.

I sighed happily and gently pulled away. I looked around at everyone, all together for what would probably be the last time, and said, "Groovy."


End file.
